The Art of Teaching
by Vanishing Roses
Summary: Albus Potter has left his home to become a DADA teacher at an American school of Wizardry. But the distance proves not so far as his past and present quickly collide and Albus and those closest to him face a new threat. Slash. ASP/SM, OMC/OMC
1. Welcome to the United States, Mr Potter

**Author's Note: [06/28/2012] **This chapter has been edited. Some parts of it might have been changed. Thank you all so much for sticking with this story! If you find mistakes, feel free to tell me in a PM or in a review. Thank you and happy reading!

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

**"Welcome to the United States, Mr. Potter"**

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><p><strong>August 6th, 2031<strong>

Albus's knees felt like jelly as he stepped off of the airplane. One part of him thought that the whole experience had been very eye-opening. He had even gone so far as to make a mental note to write to his grandfather about his journey.

An entirely different part of him, however, the part he was loath to admit still existed, had been so scared the entire flight from England that now, back on solid ground, he thought he was going to break down and cry like a first-year standing before the Hogwarts Express.

He had been wary about needing to fly in conventional Muggle transport all the way to a foreign country ever since the possibility had been first broached to him. In truth, he had been wary of Muggle transportation all his life, but his father had convinced him that new experiences were well worth the inconvenience. If that had not been enough to convince him (it hadn't been), then the facts remained that it was too difficult and costly to set up a trans-Atlantic Floo connection; getting a Portkey approved took time he did not have; the journey was too long to go by broom; and if he tried to Apparate the whole way, he would probably be splinched to gimlets and spread across the ocean like so much butter before he even managed to reach the half-way point.

After much deliberation, Albus was forced to concede that it seemed that Muggle transportation would be his only option on such short notice. So, early one fine summer morning, Mr. Albus Severus Potter, age: twenty-five, occupation: instructor of magical defensive maneuvers climbed onto a small plane and made his journey from his beloved England, across the vast ocean, all the way to a secluded, private air field in California, on the western coast of the United States of America.

The plane, thankfully, was not entirely pure Muggle technology. It was enchanted and seemed to be created specifically for the use of globe-trotting wizards. The inside of the aircraft reminded him quite heavily of the interior of the Hogwarts Express, in atmosphere if not in design. It was quaintly decorated, organic patterns on carpets and seat, and every seat was a first-class seat. There was even a food trolley that went by Albus several times during his flight without the aid of an attendant. Albus was especially thankful to see that he was not the only one traveling that day.

He spoke to a business man, Australian from his accent and sun-kissed tan, who was going to a few conferences on the benefits of using newt's eye in high-grade potions. As it turned out, the man was going to these conferences as a head hunter for aspiring master potioneers, though, the man eagerly added, he was always looking to expand his clientele and slipped Albus a business card. There was a woman who was going to Canada to see about adopting some specially-bred pixies. She had an unusually long neck and her skin hung from old age. Had he been younger, Albus would have probably discounted her, but he was happy that he had matured for she had a charming, infectious laugh and countless times Albus found himself laughing so much at one of her stories that tears were streaming down his cheeks. The stories had also caught the attention of a little boy who was returning from a summer of visiting relatives in Ireland. Despite his age, the boy had a bit of a penchant for profanity and made it a habit of addressing Albus as "dude" or "man" or "hey". Albus had attempted to give him a lecture on the joys of good manners, but the boy had just rolled his eyes and promptly ignored Albus.

Albus figured he could have been offended, but he had learned and let the snub roll off without another notice. After all, the boy was a good example of the sorts of students he would soon find himself wrangling on a daily basis. Exchanging idle pleasantries with his fellow passengers definitely made the flight much more tolerable, but that did not mean he was not feeling nauseous by the time they landed.

Flying in an airplane had been unlike flying on a broom. On a broom, Albus felt much safer, able to feel his own magic supporting him. In the plane, he had to put full trust in a bunch of metal and circuitry. Albus did not understand how it worked. Albus could not feel it vibrating and living like he could his own magic. That had made him feel blind. That sort of blindness reached into his very core and it was not a feeling he enjoyed at all. Once he was settled in, he would send a letter to his father insisting that a Portkey be requisitioned in time for the holidays later in the year. Albus would not be flying in an airplane again, if he could help it.

It took Albus a few minutes to get his baring and remind his muscles what it meant to stand on terra firma. He squinted against the strong sun, bringing a hand up to shield his green eyes from the unforgiving rays. The passengers had been let off of the airplane directly onto the air field. Two representatives from the airport, a young man and woman in crisp blue uniforms, had greeted them and lead them toward the air conditioned building where they would be able to make sure their papers were in order. Albus trailed behind the group, looking all around them with a sense of half-contained wonder.

California was certainly different from anything he had seen before in his young life. The land was flat and there were only a few trees planted around them. Most of them seemed to have been intentionally planted, as Albus doubted palm trees grew wild in that region, especially in a pattern that would best accentuate the building. In the distance, on almost all sides, he could see tall, rocky, mountains. It was nothing like the misty, forested areas he was used to, but it held its own charm. It felt so large and open, almost as if the small group of people around him were the only living souls for miles around. For all he knew, they were.

He had heard from his Uncle George, a mirthful soul who had made frequent trips around the world in order to expand his business, that California was a colorful place, if a little crowded. Albus wondered what parts of the state his uncle had been thinking about as wherever he currently stood seemed to have a pronounced sense of isolation.

How strangely different it all was. It almost felt like he had been let off on another planet, not a different country. Even the very sky seemed surreal. Back home, the sun cast a gentle, silver glow, making everything seem cool to the touch. This place, though, it radiated _gold_. Even with the sun beginning to start its downward descent, the air felt charged with energy and heat. He could feel it warm his skin.

Albus had been so lost in thought that he practically jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Spinning around, his hand instinctively reached for his wand. He relaxed only when he spotted a slender, mousy looking man. Albus's reaction must have startled the old man as well because he had jumped back. Albus gave the man a bright smile. His name was Mr. Franklin Rutherford, the principal of the school at which he would be teaching. The man before him had come to England personally to recruit Albus.

The man looked to be in his late sixties and his graying hair was beginning to recede, though it still retained a healthy thickness. Despite his initial demeanor, hands wringing and his frame stooped somewhat, he had strong features. He looked like someone who had been quite handsome in his youth, but had been worn down over the years from heavy burden. From the way the man was wiping nervous sweat from his forehead, Albus would not have been surprised if the hair loss had been from stress rather than genetics. Nervous though he might have been by habit, Albus knew the man to be jovial enough.

"Ah, didn't mean to scare you, Albus! It's good to see you again, though I suppose it hasn't been that long, now has it? I'm just happy that you accepted our invitation to teach at the school so quickly! I've already got your papers all sorted out so there's no need to go through that headache." When Albus cast a sidelong glance towards the plane, Rutherford continued, "I sent your bags ahead to the school, so they'll be there soon enough. I figured that we might as well have some proper food first before we get you settled in. Oh, god, here I am prattling off like some old man," he said, clearing his throat. He made a show of adjusting his suit, standing up as tall as he could. Holding out a hand, he grinned at the younger man. "Welcome to the United States, Mr. Potter."

Grinning from ear to ear, Albus reached out and took the older man's hand, shaking it enthusiastically. "Thank you for having me, Mr. Rutherford! I am rather looking forward to seeing how the wizarding community of this country operates."

Rutherford tossed his head back as he laughed loudly. He patted Albus on the back. Albus smiled. The man reminded him of his grandfather. Rutherford and Albus chatted as Rutherford steered him towards a rather stylish blue sports car. As Albus stood, somewhat dumbfounded, Rutherford went over to the passenger side, holding the door open for Albus. There was so much wrong with the scene before him that Albus, unable to find any words to speak, simply moved to take a seat.

"Do wizards of this country really use Muggle transport? Willingly?"

"I suppose this must come off as a surprise, huh? You English lot are rather fond of Floo and Apparation, aren't you?" Rutherford relaxed back against the seat, a pleasant smile on his face, before he pulled the car out onto the empty desert road. "Though, if I remember correctly, your grandparents have an enchanted car that's seen better days."

Albus smiled almost shyly as he clutched onto his seat belt. He hated cars. Oh, how he hated them. He was starting to feel the motion sickness settle in his belly. "Ah, yes, they do. It's- it's a flying Ford Anglia, actually. Is this...also...?"

Rutherford just grinned as he stepped on the gas peddle suddenly, leaving a startled Albus to instinctively clutch at the door. "Nope, just a normal sports car for a normal man a few decades too late for a proper midlife crisis. Cost a pretty penny, though." Almost anticipating Albus's next question, he continued. "Muggle culture is pretty popular with people here. Most of the students you'll be teaching are half-bloods or Muggle-borns and are exposed to both cultures. They're just as comfortable around computers and cell phones as they are cauldrons and dragons."

Looking over at the man thoughtfully, Albus nodded his head. "I can understand that. I think observing how such an influence has impacted a magical community could be rather fun!"

"Exactly!" Rutherford declared enthusiastically, the car slipping off the road just enough to cause some color to drain from Albus's face. "See, I knew that the son of Harry Potter would understand." Albus blushed. It seemed he was still "son of Harry Potter", even in California. "We had spoken to several young candidates about this position, but when they found out about the students' love of Muggle culture, well, their feelings were quite obvious even if they said nothing. Finding you really was like a miracle!"

Albus could feel his cheeks begin to heat. The man was making him sound like some sort of saint. That was not how it had played out at all. He just wanted to get out of Europe for a while. "It is I who ought to be thankful, Mr. Rutherford."

"Please, just call me Frank."

"O-oh, alright then, Frank. Your job offer gave me a chance to make something of myself, apart from my family name. It is," he trailed off, taking a moment to find just the right word, "difficult to be just 'Albus' when everyone sees you as the Slytherin son of Harry Potter," he said. He had tried to keep the comment light-hearted, but he worried it carried too bitter a tone. In England, it was well known what sort of people Slytherin produced, but he wasn't sure what sort of connotations, if any, that House name would have to the foreign wizard who sat next to him, driving the car with no care for the posted speed signs.

Not that it mattered as it seemed they owned the road, no other car within sight.

"Yes, yes, Slytherin. I've heard a thing or two about them. I can appreciate the cunning sort," he said with a chuckle. "But I guess for you, it must have been difficult, huh? From what your father tells me, almost everyone else in the Potter-Weasley clan gets sorted into Gryffindor."

"That's right. It must sound childish to you, but I mostly accepted this post because it was the first position I secured with my own talents."

Rutherford just shook his head. "I don't think it's childish at all. A lot of good people I know have spent their whole lives trying to outgrow the boxes they're put into. I think it's that unique perspective that will help you survive."

Albus furrowed his brows. Well, that was rather somber. "Survive...in life?"

"That too," Rutherford said, looking over at Albus with a bit of a mischievous smile. "But I mostly meant survive at the school."

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><p>Rutherford was not joking when he said living at the school would be a game of survival, Albus realized as he splashed water on his face, trying to resist the urge to vomit again. He was thankful that each teacher was given his own quarters, complete with private bathroom.<p>

After a rather pleasant snack at a restaurant about twenty minutes from the school, Rutherford and Albus arrived without any trouble. The whole area was very much unlike Hogwarts, Albus mused for what felt like the millionth time that day.

The school, called the Peppertongue School of Wizard Studies, was situated on a hill to the west of a relatively bustling wizarding town the locals called Dragons Camp. That in itself was not odd. After all, it was a similar relationship as that between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. What struck Albus as odd was that Peppertongue was not the only school around Dragons Camp. No, there were actually two other schools: The Zenbazi Institute of the Higher Craft to the east and The Kingston Wizardry Academy to the south.

Initially, Albus thought that was far too many schools in close proximity and had voiced his confusion. Rutherford had then explained to Albus that Peppertongue and the other schools, like many of the schools in the West, did not have things like school Houses. Instead, there were enough schools per region that competition was sought from outside of schools, not within. It was as if someone had put the House dorms miles apart instead of in a single castle.

There was still a prize, however, Rutherford had added. Albus could feel his ears perking at that. Earning the House Cup was always one of his favorite parts of being in school. "We actually have several competitions per year against each other," Rutherford had said as he led Albus through the small parking lot in the back of the school. "There's the Quidditch Harvest Bowl, but there are also other competitions for those future potion masters or those that excel in transfigurations. I confess, we're a competitive lot. Anything a student could possibly excel in, we have a competition for.

"At the end, there's a final winner declared and for the whole following year, all of the buildings and businesses in Dragons Camp are decorated in the winning school's colors with their banners hanging everywhere," he said with a weak smile. "I'm afraid...we haven't won in quite some time. But with you here, I'm sure that'll change!" Rutherford had declared rather triumphantly as they walked up the stairs to the entrance of the school, a hop in his step.

Albus was about to ask why the school had not won in a quite some time when he heard voices from above call out, "Look down below!" Before Albus even knew what had happened, several large goblets of green liquid fell around him, a number of them landing square on his head and shoulders, soaking him through. For a moment he thought he had been doused with water, until the smell assailed his olfactory senses.

It was like a volley of concentrated stink bombs, but without the stitched bags that normally held the components together. Instead, the stink bombs that hit Albus had had water charmed into a protective skin. Albus had all of half a second to admire the ingenuity before he rushed over to one of the bushes, vomiting up his dinner. Rutherford, obviously used to the antics, just covered his nose as he went over to Albus, lightly patting his back. "Ah, sorry about that, Albus. I completely forgot to warn you that some of the students stay here for the summer," he muttered lightly.

Albus, trembling, looked up at his attackers; there were three boys practically hanging out the window, wide grins on their faces as they waved at him and Rutherford. One of them was a little on the pudgy side with short cropped sandy hair, his pale cheeks bright red from laughing. The second boy was tall and gangly and wore wire-framed glasses. He was sitting on the window ledge, a clipboard in hand, a pen tucked behind his ear. The third boy stood in between the other two, obviously the ring leader.

Albus felt a conflicted pang of dread and joy in his heart. The boy was shorter than either of his companions and was looking at Albus with an almost impish grin, his chin resting on one hand as he leaned out of the window. His white blond hair was picked up in the warm summer wind and looked tousled. It was like looking up at the face of a young Scorpius Malfoy.

For a moment, Albus panicked. He needed to remind himself that Scorpius had been an only child and he would have known if he had had a son that boy's age. It was a coincidence—an unfortunate coincidence.

"Hey!" the-boy-who-was-not-Malfoy called out. Merlin, he even sounded like Scorpius had at his age. "Old man! Welcome back! We missed you!" Rutherford, rather than being upset, just chuckled with a shake of his head as he waved at the boys. The boys had almost pelted the older man with the most potent stink bombs Albus had ever witnessed, but there was not a single speck of malice in their expressions. They seemed sincere in their affection towards the old principal.

Suddenly the boys ran from the windows, screaming as they did so. Albus looked concerned before he saw an older woman appear at the window, panting for breath. Her graying brown hair was put up in a bun and she put her hands on her hips as she called out to the three running boys, "You can expect a detention for this, you three! And you _will _be cleaning up this mess!" she shouted before she looked out the window, smiling at the two men below warmly. "Welcome back, Franklin!" She called out, "I will meet you and young Mr. Potter later for dinner. Have him go to his room first and get cleaned up, will you? His things are already there," She called out before disappearing from the window.

In terms of appearance, the woman reminded him a bit of a younger Professor McGonagall, but she had the open and warm personality of his grandmother. Albus would have smiled except he was overcome with the urge to vomit once more.

When his stomach settled down a bit, Rutherford took him to his quarters in order to give him an opportunity to get cleaned up before meeting the rest of the staff. It was there that Albus had stayed longer than he needed to, trying to come to terms with what he had seen of the school so far.

He was still unnerved by the presence of a boy that looked so much like the younger Malfoy. Albus had partly left the country because of him and, somehow, he had inadvertently stumbled upon his doppelganger there. It figured. Fate had never been on Albus' side, why would it suddenly decide to support him now? He stepped into the shower, hoping that it would help to clear his mind. Instead, it just gave him more time to contemplate thoughts he had been sure were long buried.

All through school, he and Scorpius Malfoy had been something of friends, or so he thought. There was even a time when Albus may have even called Scorpius his closest friend. After school ended, they had continued to spend time with each other. Even when Scorpius left the country to earn his Mastery in Potions, they had continued to communicate via owl and the occasional visit.

But then, one day, completely without warning, he received a brief letter from Scorpius. It simply said Scorpius found their friendship to be tiresome and an ill-use of his time. He had said Albus had outlasted his usefulness. Sometimes, when his mind would wander, Albus could remember all of the messages he sent Scorpius, desperately wanting to know if he had done something wrong. He never received anything else from his cruel-hearted friend.

He had tried to insist that he didn't mind the break. He tried to tell people that such a conclusion was inevitable for a friendship based on convenience. He had done his best to make that little lie the truth. It was easy enough. They were Slytherins, after all. Who didn't think that all Slytherin friendships were based on convenience alone? Albus took advantage of this to protect himself, but in reality, news of Scorpius's constant successes hurt. Scorpius really hadn't needed Albus it seemed. Albus had seen his new job as a way to go to a country that had never heard of Scorpius Malfoy and all of the amazing things he had done.

He was debating if he should just decline Rutherford's invitation to dinner when there came an impatient knock on the door. Taking the towel off of his still partly wet hair, he walked over to the door, opening it curiously. He was a little taken aback to see the young Malfoy-look-alike standing there with a deep frown, his hands shoved in the pockets of his well-worn jeans. They even shared a similar pout.

The young boy looked to be around fourteen and for a while just stood there silently, not even looking up at him, which was alright with Albus. Taking that moment of strange silence to look over the young student, Albus was surprised to see Malfoy's clone look so, well, un-Malfoy-like. His clothing was obviously second-hand, for one. His shoes were old sneakers that had at one time been white but were now an almost dull gray. The only thing new about them was the shoe laces, both of which were a proud, blinding, neon green. His jeans had stains along the legs, probably left behind from various potion experiments, Albus guessed. He wore a T-shirt, a dark green one. There had been a tear on the hem at some point but it had since been meticulously repaired with thread and needle.

That amused Albus. If his Malfoy had ever torn his clothing, he would have rather thrown it away than even use a simple repair spell on it. This one would rather mend it the old fashioned way than to repair it with magic. Suddenly, the whole situation felt incredibly funny to Albus. Malfoy had once said that Weasleys were known for dressing like paupers and here was Scorpius' double dressed in second hand clothing, looking like an orphan out of some story book. Albus actually chuckled out loud before he could stop himself.

Hearing the laugh, the young boy looked up at Albus so sharply, with an expression filled with so much loathing that Albus's laughter was cut off right at the source. "What the hell is so funny, huh? Find something about me hilarious, _asshole_?" the young boy spat out, venomously.

Albus was completely taken aback. He wanted to say a lot of things, mainly to remind the young man not to be so rude to his teacher, but he remembered the young boy on the airplane and stopped himself from acting out reflexively. He _had _laughed because he had mentally thought of the boy as a pauper. He had been in the wrong. "I am terribly sorry," he said apologetically, looking at the young boy with a small smile.

If it had been Scorpius, he would have continued the argument until Albus would consider Stupefying himself just to end matters. Instead, the boy just nodded his head, accepting the apology, the whole thing forgotten in an instant. It was in that moment, Albus decided to stop comparing the two. Malfoy was gone from his life. He could move on now. He had the world's permission to do it.

"So, I just came by to apologize for pelting you with stink bombs earlier. They were a welcome home present for the old man. We honestly forgot that he would be coming back with you," he explained before a grin crept onto his face. "The stink bombs were set to release when someone stepped on one of the stairs. He skipped over it but you didn't, so you got hit. Really, it's _his_ fault. What's an old man doing, skipping steps like a spring chicken? He could have fallen, broken a hip, even."

Albus chuckled at that as he nodded in agreement, rubbing the back of his neck. "I suppose you are right about that one. But Mr. Rutherford does not strike me as someone who accepts his old age without a little fight. Do you normally aim stink bombs at him?"

The boy shook his head. "'Course not. That'd get boring and he'd catch on quick. It was only stink bombs because we wanted to show him that we mastered the water manipulation he showed us before summer break."

"Ah, I saw that. It really was quite impressive. I should get you in touch with my Uncle George. He would be interested in seeing your super-stink bombs. If there's a way to make get them mass- produced and easily transported, he could probably sell them at his shops."

The boy looked at him in awe, his silver gray eyes large as saucers now. "Wait...by Uncle George you don't mean...George Weasley do you? From... Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?" he asked excitedly, stepping towards Albus until they were both practically standing in Albus' room.

"The very same. I take it you're a fan?"

"A fan! You have no idea! Me, Matthew and Logan have made a _bunch_ of stuff over the years hoping they could get picked up by Wheezes! Hell, there's even a Wheezes down in Dragons Camp. Dude, do you think Mr. Weasley would be interested in seeing the stink bombs? We... we've got other things too! **Loads** of other things!" he rattled off, his slender body practically trembling as he tried to contain himself.

Albus nodded his head, smiling. "I know he would be. He and my cousin Roxanne are always looking for new talent. I'll owl him and let him know that I've found a group to watch out for. So it's Matthew, Logan and..."

At that the boy's pale cheeks went bright pink. Standing up a bit straighter, he cleared his throat. "My name's Marius Lucas Rutherford, but I prefer Lucas or just Luke. I think Marius is a stupid name."

"'Rutherford'? Are you related to the principal?"

He shrugged. "Not really. We aren't family, but he's good to me. I took his last name because it's much better than my real one," he explained, hands clenching into fists at his side. "Not that it matters," he added, hands relaxing. "There are loads of people that have taken the old man's last name here. You'll understand eventually. Just don't go around asking every student like you asked me," he said, crossing his arms across his chest, "I'm tough and I don't care bringing up the past, but there are lots of kids, especially the younger ones that'll just start to cry. Or get angry. Or stop talking. It's better to not bring up anything to anyone."

For a second time, Albus looked at Lucas apologetically. "You certainly are very perceptive for someone your age."

Lucas snorted a bit at that. "Uh, duh. You can't stay a kid for too long or else you'll get crushed," he said simply, as if the idea were obvious. Unable to help himself, Albus reached out and ruffled the boy's hair. That startled Lucas, but he didn't pull away. He stood there quietly, letting Albus muss his hair for a while before he pulled away, looking over at the older man shyly, " A-anyway, I have some stuff so to do before dinner. S-s-so see you around, Mr. Potter. I'll try not to hit you with any more stink bombs. Unless you piss me off," he quickly muttered before all but running down the hall.

Watching the boy run off, Albus smiled a bit. He was happy that he had gotten a chance to connect with his first student. But almost just as quickly, a wave of sadness washed over him. Much of what Lucas had said to him just made him feel miserable, but he had taken the child's words to heart. His curiosity had always gotten the better of him at times and luckily, Lucas had given him fair warning that the students here were probably more delicate than they appeared.

Ruefully, Albus thought that it was like having a school full of nothing but Slytherin. As Lucas's form disappeared from sight, Albus thought that the resemblance between him and Scorpius perhaps was not as strong as he thought. It had to have just been his tired mind.

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><p>No longer dripping wet, he decided to go for a walk around the school in an attempt to get a feel for his surroundings. He soon realized that the whole building probably had several dozen size charms on it. From the outside, it looked to be a small building, only around three stories and not very wide. Inside, however, he was shocked to see all of the twists and turns, all of the stairways and dead-ends. It was almost like it was a totally different building from how it appeared on the outside. The sheer expanse reminded him a little of the wonder he felt the first time walking through Hogwarts.<p>

He soon realized Peppertongue was a very different beast. The hallways were wider and everything felt new. One feature he liked in particular was the maps on the walls. They showed the rooms on that floor, the room descriptions changing as the rooms did. He would find out later that if one was polite enough, the rooms would wait until one's destination was reached before changing. A lack of punctuality was a pet peeve of the rooms and would cause them to change quickly out of spite.

Albus was equally surprised to see that even though it was summer, many students could be seen running through the halls or practicing magic in the empty classrooms. He only thought it off, however, until he thought back to what Lucas had said. Maybe these students weren't close to their families. Maybe they didn't have anyone to stay with during the summer holidays. Thinking about it now, he realized that it was indeed also unusual to have teachers staying at the school during the summer holidays.

Albus felt a feeling of longing swell in his heart. He was thankful that no matter how chaotic his house (and his family in general) was he always felt like he had a place to go to when school ended. A place he belonged.

He soon heard a familiar voice shouting out commands. He went over to a large open window, leaning against the frame a bit as he looked down. Lucas, his two friends, Matthew and Logan, and a handful of other students were playing a game of Quodpot. He had seen it played a number of times, and, seeing the modified Quaffle quiver in that telltale manner, his hands went up to his ears, bracing himself as it exploded in Logan's hand, Lucas screaming out in joy as his team was awarded points.

Watching the boys play together reminded Albus a little of his younger days, playing Quidditch. Much to his mother's chagrin, he hadn't turned out to be much of a Quidditch player himself, though he always loved to watch the matches back at school.

Lily had been a fantastic Chaser and his brother, James, had been a good Seeker. He could never hold a candle up to Scorpius, though. That was a fact Scorpius loved to rub in James' face at every opportunity. Even when Slytherin was trailing behind in points badly, with no chance of ever catching up, Scorpius would always make sure to catch the Golden Snitch in the most dramatic flourish possible. It was just the kind of person he was.

Even if his House lost to James', Scorpius wanted James to know that he lost to Scorpius, personally. Albus always figured that if it wasn't for the fact that Scorpius was an amazing Seeker, he would have gotten kicked off the team his first year.

All through school, Scorpius never even bothered to pretend to be a team player. Even from the stories his father had told him, Scorpius's father, Draco, at least had a group of friends. Scorpius floated from one group to another, never bothering to fit in with any of them. The only constant beside the golden-haired wonder from the Slytherin dungeons had been Albus, trailing behind him like a shadow. Not that it mattered now, he supposed.

Thankfully, Albus' reminiscing was put to a merciful end when he felt a familiar hand on his shoulders. Rutherford gave him a friendly smile as he looked out at the children tossing around the Quaffle, howling as it exploded in Lucas' face. The young boy hurled out obscenities before chasing Matthew with his broom, wanting revenge. "He's a good boy, Lucas is. Not much of a gracious loser, though. He only likes to play if the cards are in his favor, if you know what I mean."

Albus couldn't help but smile. "Oh, yes. I've known people like him."

"I hope he's properly apologized to you, Albus," he said, looking over at him. "Margaret made sure that all three boys will be disciplined. Though, to be totally honest with you, I don't know what good it will do. They've been here for about five years and have been handed maybe five hundred detentions between them."

Five_ hundred?_ Albus looked shocked. "That many detentions and the idea of expulsions haven't come up?"

Rutherford gave a small, sad shake of the head. " This school is home to most of them. Now imagine us expelling orphans with the ability to do magic. The other schools do dish out expulsions, mind you, but not us. I know, it's a weakness in me, I suppose, but I can't bear to kick any of them out."

Albus smiled, turning his attention back to the Quodpot game. "I don't think it's a weakness at all. I am happy you didn't expel Lucas. He and his friends are obviously bright. That stink bomb might have been a rather annoying prank, but it did show off how much they know about charms and potions," Albus said before turning to smile at Rutherford, "They can become excellent wizards if they want. I just hope I can teach them to use their abilities for good instead of evil."

At that, Rutherford snickered, dabbing his handkerchief against his forehead as was his habit. "You have no idea how thrilled I am to hear that! After what happened earlier, I was worried that you were going to leave on the first plane back."

"If I did that, I would never live it down. Besides, I think I am starting to understand the students here, a little at a time," Albus said gently, "From what I gather, they are crass and very blunt, they're quick to hide behind a scowl or a glare, but," Albus leaned against the window sill once more, smiling as he watched the children play, "for the most part, they're still just children."

"You really are as perceptive as I thought," Rutherford said softly, tossing a sidelong glance over at the young teacher. "Your father told me that you were the quiet, observant type. I see that you really do have a good head on your shoulders. Though I should warn you, Occlumency is very popular among the students."

"Occlumency, huh?" Albus asked, looking impressed, "That's a rather difficult ability to learn, especially for school children, isn't it? Even my father has trouble with it to this day and he's the head of the Auror Office back home."

"Well, it isn't part of the regular curriculum but they figure out how to use it if they need it," the older man explained. "It has been rather difficult to keep certain techniques hidden away ever since the War."

Albus nodded his head, understanding Rutherford's meaning. "I suppose one's upbringing has a large effect on what one can do from the beginning. I mean, because of my family, I was always very good at defense against the dark arts," Albus said, hoping that his words didn't seem like a boast.

"And that is why I'm thrilled to have you working for me. Though on that topic, I should warn you about a few things now that I have had a chance to read through your lesson plans," He said, motioning for Albus to follow him down the hallway. "Boggarts and Patronii have, historically, not gone over well here."

Albus glanced over his shoulder at his students one last time before he followed Rutherford. He caught those small expressions between expressions. Guarded hearts. Mistrust. Hopelessness. With the sorts of monsters that no doubt lurked in their hearts, just how much light would it take to cast them out? How much good could Albus really do?

Albus opened his mouth to say something, but Rutherford continued before he could. "Ah, here's the dining hall. After what happened earlier, I hope you've still got an appetite."

Albus just nodded as he followed after Rutherford, his hands feeling cold.

* * *

><p>He had been as quiet as a church mouse as Rutherford introduced him to the rest of the staff.<p>

Ms. Hope, the older woman he had met earlier, taught the first years how to fly, the older students how to Apparate, and kept an eye over the Quidditch and Quodpot teams, though it was ultimately up to the captains to actually lay out the training.

Mr. Harwood was a short, ancient looking man who was in charge of potions, though it seemed not for much longer as he mentioned retiring soon. He also mentioned that he was looking forward to backpacking through the Amazon.

Mr. Foster was a fat, good-natured man who taught Herbology and was also the head of the joint school committee that oversaw all inter-school related events.

Mrs. Newberry was a tall, thin woman who appeared to Albus to be skittish by nature, her hands trembling from nerves as she sipped at her coffee. Albus wasn't sure if she trembled so much because of all the caffeine or from the fact that she taught Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Astronomy, and Divination.

Misses Jennifer and Patricia Collins, twins and not much older than Albus from the looks of it, were hired only about three years ago and taught Transfiguration and Charms, respectively.

He also met Mr. Huerta who was the in-school doctor. The man looked rather haggard. He had terrible bags under his eyes, half-hidden by his black, square glasses. He was also unshaven, stubble on his sharp jaw lines. He would have made for quite the romantic figure if it were not for his cantankerous attitude and penchant for sneering out of habit. He looked to be a man who rarely left his office as even his naturally dark skin had a sickly dullness to it.

Albus was surprised to hear that, despite being the principal of the school, Rutherford also taught History of Magic and Muggle Studies. History and social science happened to be passions of his. He was sure that Rutherford's teaching of history of magic was probably more entertaining than Binns' had been.

"Do you also teach care of magical creatures at this school?" Albus asked as he took a bite of his food, looking around the table.

Most of the teachers looked between annoyed and disgusted, but Mr. Foster laughed. "Oh, yes we do, but we actually take that class with the other two schools. It's taught every Saturday. You have to forgive the other teachers," he said when he noticed their faces, "I'm afraid they can be more competitive than the students sometimes."

Washing down his mouthful of food with some water, he nodded his head. "I see. So it's an inter-school class? Do all of the professors attend since it's on a Saturday?"

It was Ms. Hope who answered him now, reaching up to tidy up her bun. "Oh, it's not mandatory or anything like that, Al, but believe me you're gonna want to go. It's a great way to scope out the competition. You get to see the other schools' squirts, see who's a leader and who's a follower." The other teachers nodded in agreement. They all had their own teams and all used the inter-school class as a way of making notes of the other students. "Since you'll be teaching Defense, that means you'll be in charge of putting together some duelists. It's good to keep an eye out for the skills that the other schools have so you can pick the best students for each match."

"Wait, I-I will be putting together a dueling team?" he asked, startled. It was definitely the first time he had heard of that.

"I'm sorry, Albus, I should have mentioned it earlier," Rutherford interjected. "Dueling is indeed one of the many competitions we hold during the year. I figured since you were already teaching the students Defense Against the Dark Arts, you wouldn't mind also being their dueling instructor," the old principal said, nervously swiping sweat off his large forehead.

Albus in fact did not mind. Actually, he was looking forward to it. He smiled slyly as he cut up his potatoes, feigning insult. "Mr. Rutherford, really, taking such liberties without asking for my permission!"

The other teachers at the table burst out in laughter. Albus had been on his best behavior thus far, so it was nice to see the young man relaxing enough to crack jokes. "I think the lady doth protest too much," Huerta said with a snicker as he playfully elbowed Rutherford's side. The whole table laughed once more before the teachers dissolved into smaller conversations, openly trying to talk over each other. Albus was reminded of being back at home where volume control was a foreign concept. He liked sitting around loud, boisterous people, even if he was more of the quiet, reserved type.

With the other teachers distracted, he took the time to take a look around the dining hall. There were many tables, filled with food, but few students. Most of them, Albus noted, came into the room, took the food they wanted and left, their heads bowed low the entire time, not making eye contact, not walking with a group. Albus could see why these students would have such a hard time producing a Patronus. It wasn't their fault. Albus felt his heart ache as he watched children snatching food, some shoving it into their pockets, glancing over their shoulders suspiciously before darting out. Some of the younger ones went to the corners and sat on the ground, trying to make themselves as small as possible. The teachers said nothing. The younger students would adjust to school life at their own pace.

Almost as if blessing Albus with a sign of hope, Lucas and the rest of the students who had been playing Quodpot walked in, their clothing drenched in mud, Quaffle bits, and anti-explosion solution, and headed over to the nearest arrangement of food. Sitting down at the table, they talked as loud as the teachers did, openly laughing and rough housing. Albus' hope was renewed as he watched the group. There was a time when those boys and girls had been scared, angry and by themselves. Eventually, they had found each other and made their own little family. They were proof the school worked.

Turning his attention back to the teachers, he laughed at a story Mr. Harwood was saying about a first year who broke into his supply cabinet and thought he was drinking a _Felix Felicis _potion. That same student later tried to openly lie about it, even when he was clearly breaking out into painful boils all over his body. Albus laughed even harder when he realized that the first year that Mr. Harwood was talking about was none other than Lucas.

Thousands of miles away from all that he had known, Albus was beginning to think that he had finally found his true calling. He was happy that he decided to be a teacher at Peppertongue. At the very least, it was certainly going for be an interesting semester.

**TBC**


	2. One Cannot Excel in Everything

****Author's Note: [06/28/2012] ****This chapter has been edited. Some parts of it might have been changed. Thank you all so much for sticking with this story! If you find mistakes, feel free to tell me in a PM or in a review. Thank you and happy reading!

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

**"One Cannot Excel in Everything"**

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><p><strong>August 20, 2031<strong>

The following two weeks had gone by in a blur for Albus. He spent much of the first few days trying to stay awake. The trip had taken a lot out of him, so it was some time before he was able to adjust his sleep schedule back into an acceptable rhythm. In the meantime, he had taken to wandering the halls of the school at night.

Hugging his robes around himself, he wandered the halls, lost in thought. Had he been in Hogwarts, he would have no doubt carried around a candle to light his way. At Peppertongue, however, the walls turned on dim lights for him automatically.

He had been at the school for almost two weeks, but he still did not feel like a professor. Albus accepted that much of that had to do with the fact that classes would not officially start for another week. Despite that fact, he could not help but see that a part of the problem, if there was one at all, had to do with the attitude of the school. At its core, it was nothing like Hogwarts.

Rutherford's _laissez_-_faire _attitude filled every inch of the school. Unlike the other two schools, he learned, Peppertongue did not seem to have a dress code. Zenbazi students wore traditional robes whileKingstonAcademy students wore very sharp uniforms, their blazers always prim, clean, and new. The students of Peppertongue, on the other hand, wore whatever they had. He had spotted some of the students wearing what seemed to be the same kind of sweater his first few days at the school. He had assumed these sweaters to be part of the uniform of the school, but he had later found out they had been gifts from Mrs. Newberry, for the birthdays of her favorite pupils.

Initially, he had assumed that every student at Peppertongue was just a poor orphan, but even that had not proven to be the case. While many of the students seemed to be like Lucas, having no real family outside of the school walls, there were others like Lucas' taller friend, Matthew. The boy dressed nicely and his hair was always brushed neatly out of habit. He obviously came from a well to do family. EvenLoganwore clothing that showed that his family could afford to send him to a richer school. The students seemed to be more laid back around each other than the students of Hogwarts had been. If he had to compare it anything he knew, he would have to say that the whole school felt like the inside of the Slytherin dorms. The students were relaxed and joked with one another. They were all united against a common enemy, so they had few reasons to really form deep seated hatreds against one of their own.

Albus also noticed that without feuding Houses, even the professors seemed to genuinely get along better. There was, of course, good-matured ribbing amongst them that seemed to be common amongst teachers regardless of country, but there were no heated rivalries. They all had their own individual subjects and they were all united in their common goal of teaching their students.

Teachers, Albus realized, could not have House-biases when there were no Houses. They were so laid-back when compared to his idea of the "proper professor" that it had almost caught him by surprise. Even the more traditional teachers, like Mr. Harwood who dressed in well-tailored suits at all times, were quick to laughter and did not bother to be moody or hide how they felt. These professors, too, had a common enemy. It seemed the school, as rag-tag as it might be, was united in its common hatred ofKingstonand Zenbazi.

Albus had feared that he would never be able to fit in with such an open-hearted group of educators. If they had gone to Hogwarts, the lot of them would be sorted into Hufflepuff or Gryffindor, he just knew it. But within a week, he found himself walking through the school grounds in Muggle clothes like the rest of the school population.

That seemed to have been some sort of unspoken initiation because as soon as he dropped suits and robes in favor of comfortable jeans and shirt, more and more students seemed to become curious about him. Albus always seemed to have a gaggle of students around him whenever he left his office. These children might have had a lot of faults, but love of learning was never one of them. Albus could hardly answer the questions as quickly as they were being thrown at him. What was Englandlike? Is Harry Potter the most powerful wizard in the whole world? Is it true that they would be learning about Boggarts? What was his _Patronus_? What was his favorite flavor of bean?

Albus always did his best to answer any questions the students threw at him, but he couldn't say that he wasn't thankful when Lucas would eventually find him. The other students would dart off in every direction whenever Lucas approached. It wasn't that they were scared of him; they just knew that when Lucas wanted to talk to someone, he wanted the utmost privacy. Most of the time, Lucas would just lead Albus through the school. He spoke at Albus more than to him, but the older man didn't seem to mind. He was trying to learn what sort of person Lucas was, really.

The young man would alternate between incredibly angry and guarded to childishly mischievous. Albus wasn't quite sure of what to make of him. He learned early on that whatRutherfordhad said about the young man had been practically an understatement: whenever Albus attempted to ply his minds for a hint at his true feelings, he met a brick wall long before he got close. The young man really did have a talent for Occlumency. It was only in the school's vast basement levels that he seemed to relax.

Young Albus was convinced that Peppertongue's basements were an answer to Hogwarts' dungeons. "This whole place is just a converted insane asylum," Lucas had said to him as he led him through a hall that had been left in disrepair. The light flickered and there was something wet on the walls and floors. Albus could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stick up. "There are ghosts here, too, but they aren't that great at conversation."

"I suppose that makes sense. This was an insane asylum."

Lucas looked over at him at that comment, his face unreadable for a moment before he looked back ahead. "Most of the people who were sent here weren't insane, you know. Most of the time, they just pissed off the wrong people. The doctors here saw them as free test subjects and rarely, if ever, recommended any of them for release. Many can't talk even if they want to because they slit their own throats," he explained, nonchalantly. Running over to an upturned office chair, he smirked. Turning it upright, he sat down on it. "Push me, Mr. Potter."

Smiling weakly, Albus approached Lucas and, grabbing the back of the chair, he pushed the young man through the dark hallway. "This... sounds like a terrible place," he said, hearing distant sobbing as it turned to screams of agony. "Aren't you afraid of ghosts, Lucas?"

"Why? They can't do anything to me. It's obvious, though, they want an audience. I think it puts their souls at ease, even if it's just a little bit," he said softly, reaching out to grab a door frame as they passed it, indicating they were to go into the room.

Albus looked out in horror. Inside, a young woman, probably no older than Lucas, was tied down to a chair, gagged and bound. She was sobbing and screaming as she thrashed violently. Several darkened figures approached her, the room soon filling with an ominous drilling sound. Albus just barely stifled the sound of a gasp as he heard drill meet flesh. The woman's screams suddenly amplified before becoming turning into strangled gargling as the figures pushed the drill deeper into the left side of her head. Almost as soon as it began, it was over, all of the figures suddenly disappearing into white mist; the woman's screaming faded into nothing.

"Lucas..." Albus gasped out, feeling faint. "Why do you... why do you watch this? That's horrible!" Albus' knees finally failed him as he sank to the dirty floor. He had known a ghost when he was back in Hogwarts, but he had been nothing like that young girl. Lucas said nothing for several long moments before he spun around to face Albus. Reaching out, he pet the top of Albus's head as if comforting a child.

"Did you know that that woman was a squib? She didn't even know. No one did. Back then, documentation of squibs just wasn't that good here," he said softly, almost soothingly as he continued to stroke Albus' dark hair. "The thing that she did that got her sent here, the thing that made her so dangerous to other people, was that she could see Thestrals. Her family thought she was crazy and got tired of taking care of her so they sent her here. The doctors here thought that she was seeing things because of pressure getting built up in her brain," he muttered, tapping the side of his head with his fingers, "and they wondered if they could relieve that pressure. They pushed the drill in too deep. Every day, at the same time, she dies again and again."

When Albus looked up at him, worry clear on his face, Lucas withdrew his hand, carefully resting it on his lap. He looked down at Albus kneeling at his feet, and for a moment Albus couldn't see a child anymore. "She screams less when she knows I'm here watching it, even if I can't do anything to save her."

With that, Lucas dragged himself out of the room, heading back down the hall. Albus took a minute to compose himself before returning to the youth's side, pushing him down the hall once more.

They must have spent three hours going from room to room, watching people die. Albus felt increasingly ill, but Lucas' somber expression never once changed. Albus was thankful when Lucas finally led him out of the basements, his face white as a sheet.

Once the basement doors closed behind him, Lucas spun around and looked up at Albus with a bright smile. "Well, you passed! You're the first teacher that's ever lasted the whole trip! The ghosts will definitely be nice to you now. Anyway, I better go. I promisedLoganthat I'd help him with something for Potions. See ya later, Mr. Potter!" With that, Lucas was gone down the hall.

Albus promptly went to the infirmary and vomited into the sink before he could even explain to Huerta what had happened. Huerta, on the other hand, didn't seem too shocked. A young female ghost had come by hours earlier, he explained, and sweetly informed him that Albus would probably be by at some point.

It had taken nearly an hour for Huerta's many remedies to finally settle Albus' stomach. "There's nothing physically wrong with you," Huerta had said, "it's all mental. Stop thinking so much." Albus swore to himself in that moment that he would never go down to the basements ever again.

Yet, the next day, he found himself wandering the basement halls, Lucas beside him.

Every time after, they only went to a few of the rooms and the ghosts who were done dying chatted with them if they could. Most were friendly, others completely insane (Albus couldn't tell if they were insane before becoming ghosts or if it was a later development, but he thought it too rude to ask).

Lucas walked this time, not feeling like being pushed around. He was amused that Albus had actually been willing to push him around for hours that first time and said so. It seemed the other teachers he brought down there either didn't understand his command or willfully ignored him.

Albus thanked him, but he wasn't sure how he felt about the fact that he had "obeyed commands remarkably well". Albus had no doubt James would have loved to meet Lucas.

* * *

><p><strong>September 5, 2031<strong>

"You want me to-to what?"

Rutherfordjust gave Albus a nervous smile as he wiped at his forehead. "Well, you see, school will be starting up after the weekend and the students still need to go get their supplies from Dragons Camp. I was hoping you wouldn't mind taking a group of students down there today?"

Albus smiled a bit as he nodded. "Oh, of course! I'm sorry, it's just it took me by surprise a little bit. Do you not have a place like Diagon Alley here?"

"Oh, there are many, many places like that,"Rutherfordassured, "But since many of the students stay here for the summer, they aren't able to make the trip to other shopping districts. Besides, things are just cheaper in Dragons Camp. I'll go get a group of students ready to go then. They'll meet you at the front gates after you're done with breakfast. Thank you again, Albus!"Rutherfordsaid with a bright smile, tucking his handkerchief away as he rushed off before Albus could change his mind.

Albus ate breakfast rather quickly that morning. He was nervous, though he wasn't quite sure why. He had met pretty much every student on campus and they were all very good children, if a little withdrawn. He figured he was just nervous since this would be his first trip into Dragons Camp and he wasn't sure want to expect.

Tossing back his cold mug of pumpkin juice, he left the confines of the building. He headed over to the main gates where a group of students were loitering about, waiting for him. He was secretly thankful that they were students he had had a chance to meet already. Upon a second look, he realized that his group was Peppertongue's entire first string Quidditch team.

Madison Nakamura was a tall girl, in her seventh year, her straight black hair pulled back away from her slender, almost bony face. She was the team's Keeper and captain. She had a scar that ran from just under her left eye, down past her delicate jaw line. She had proudly told Albus a week earlier that it was the scar from the first time a Bludger had smashed into her face and her Beaters at the time had been too slow to protect her. She could have had Dr. Huerta remove the scar easily, but she had requested he not touch it. It served a reminder to her team to always remain vigilant.

Percival Gram, a third year, was almost as short as Lucas. He had his shirt off and draped over one of his shoulders to combat the heat. Albus could see despite his short size, Percival's body was well toned, his skin darkly tanned from hours out in the sun. His hair was as black asMadison's, but his was shaggy and unkempt and kept falling into his face. The boy actually reminded him of pictures he had seen of his father's god father, Sirius Black. Percival, Albus noted, was also relatively light on his feet, as the young man hopped off brick wall and easily landed on his feet. Albus figured that came in handy considering he was one of the team's three chasers. The other two chasers were a pair of red headed twins, Angie and Mona Reinhardt, both fifth years. Albus had felt a small pang in his heart when he had first met the girls: they reminded him a little of his uncles George and Fred. He had never met his uncle Fred, who had died before he was even born, but he always felt like he had through stories that his family would tell him. The girls were very chatty and took being twins in stride. It was incredibly hard to tell the two apart as they easily exchanged personalities at will if it would get a laugh. It turned out that even their parents had had a sense of humor: their full names were Angela and Demona, and the girls would play up their namesakes.

Matthew and Logan, the team's Beaters, were standing on either side of Lucas, Peppertongue's star Seeker, as they normally did. Albus felt that their personalities fit their team positions rather well. During practice, Lucas trusted them completely to keep Bludgers at bay and outside of games; they flanked him like body guards. Albus thought the three of them made a great team, so he was very sad to hear that Matthew and Logan were both sixth years. It meant that there would come a time when Lucas, still a fourth year, would have to go through school without his two friends. If the idea bothered Lucas, he didn't let it show on his face.

Granted, at the moment, Albus couldn't read anything on the young man's face. While the other students wore Muggle summer clothing, most wearing sandals, Lucas looked like he was dressed for winter. He was wearing a thick jacket and long pants. He even wore mittens, scarf, a hat and black sunglasses. If it was not for the familiar tuft of white blond hair sticking out under his knitted cap, and his haughty stance, Albus would not have even recognized him.

Walking over to him, Albus reached out, gently taking off the sunglasses. "... Any particular reason you have decided to go to Dragons Camp incognito, Mr. Rutherford?"

Lucas just huffed at him. "Those assholes are going to be there." Even after knowing Lucas and his mannerisms for several weeks, Albus could not help but flinch whenever the young man swore. He could hear his grandmother's voice screeching in his ear to mind his language. He never bothered to try and tell Lucas anything though. Something about the determined look on the young man's face told him his words would have been lost anyway.

Matthew was quick to jump in and explain, adjusting his glasses a bit. He could tell that Lucas' brash nature threw people off sometimes. "He means the students of Zenbazi and Kingston, sir. Our schools really, _really_, do not get along." Albus just nodded, understanding.

"I see. Believe me; I understand a thing or two about rivalries. But really, Lucas, there is no need for all...this," he motioned at the young man's disguise. "For one, you will die of heat exhaustion. Now, go and change into something proper, please. We will be waiting right here."

Shoulders slumping, Lucas made his way back into the school to go get changed. He returned a few minutes later in his normal outfit of worn jeans and loose fitting shirt. This one had a faded image of a cat on the front. Albus could see his wand tucked into his back pocket. "Fine, let's get this freaking trip over with. But I swear, Mr. Potter, if those assholes say anything to me, I'm going to punch them right in their fucking faces," Lucas sneered, walking out through the front gates, the rest of the Quidditch team following after him. Albus just rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he followed after his charges.

He honestly hoped that it would be an uneventful day. Albus was well versed in breaking up wizard duels, but an old fashioned fist fight? He suddenly wished he had taken James up on his offer to learn how to brawl back when he was just a third year at Hogwarts.

* * *

><p>Dragons Camp was an amazing place, Albus declared to himself. There were many restaurants and shops, but also residential villages scattered around. Everything was decorated in black and , in his normal sly manner, explained to Albus that those were the colors of Zenbazi. The school had won the games the year before and as a result, all of Dragons Camp had been charmed to proudly display their colors. Albus had never seen a whole town so uniformly decorated before and he thought it gave Dragons Camp a certain beauty.<p>

His job of keeping an eye on his charges had turned out to be a relatively easy task. Being a close knit Quidditch team, he noticed that they moved as a unit for the most part. If anyone was likely to deviate from the group and wander about, it was Lucas. It was simply part of his persona.

The first shop that they had gone into was Tanja's Sporting Goods. The reason that Albus had been assigned the whole Quidditch team was that they had to get new equipment for the team anyway. While the students gathered new brooms, Bludgers and Quaffles, Maddison went to go speak with Madam Tanja herself. When Albus noticed that his students were walking out of the shop without paying, Maddison just laughed and explained to him how things worked with the students of Peppertongue.

Since the school was paid for and run mostly by the State, they had talked the shops of Dragons Camp into forming something of a deal. The students would be allowed to get whatever they needed in terms of school supplies and the shop keepers could charge the school instead of the students. If the students had parents or guardians who had been able to pay for tuition, then that tuition would go towards their supply expenses. Every Peppertongue student carried around an identification card upon with they had to cast a charm. If the wand matched the ID card, it would turn green, meaning that the student was indeed who they said they were. Otherwise it would turn red. It was also a convenient way for pubs and stores to make sure students were as old as they said they were and weren't using tricks. There were some things that older students were allowed to buy that younger students weren't, she explained. Albus thought that the cards was certainly a smart move, remembering how often students in Slytherin had tried to get firewhiskey back when he was in school. If they had had been carded, he doubted they could have bluffed their way into the pubs.

Once their Quidditch equipment was bought, the students went into the most popular bookshop in town, Barrow's Books. Albus' eyes widened at that the store before him. The three story building was bigger than even the ones he had been to in Diagon Alley. Maddison spoke to the kindly store owner as soon as they got inside, and they were allowed to leave their things behind the counter to make shopping for books easier. With that, the team broke off, going to get books for their specific years.

No longer having a single group to take care of, Albus wandered as well. He found himself apologizing constantly as he tried to make his way through the crowded shop. There were many witches and wizards around, most of them taken aback by his English accent, many asking where he was from. Despite his somewhat shy nature, Albus was happy to talk to these strangers.

Back inEurope, he could hardly go anywhere without people recognizing him and asking him about his famous mother and father. Here, though, people stopped him only because they saw him as someone new to town. He had cautiously told them that he was the new Defense professor at Peppertongue, not sure how others would react. Luckily, it seemed that, despite the sorts of homes his students had come from, their reputations were mostly respectable.

Most people Albus spoke with had a positive attitude towards his school. They called him noble for working with such students. That comment did not sit well with him, but he let it slide. They said they hoped he did not turn out like the last Defense teacher. He had wanted to question them about just what they meant by that, but they would leave before he had summoned the courage to do so.

When he was finally alone, he looked through the shelves, amazed as the wide variety of books that were available. Taking his glasses out of their case from his pocket, he slipped them on, reading through a book on Dueling theory.

Before Albus even realized it, he was soon maneuvering through the thin walkways in between the book shelves with a stack of books so high up he could hardly see what was in front of him. Not that he was looking in front of him anyway, his eyes zooming through the stacks of books. He had been lost in search and had not even realized how little he was paying attention to his surroundings until he ran into a group of people.

Suddenly, he found himself on the ground, the books that had been in his arms clattering around him. One rather heavy tome about the history of the _Patronus _charm had fallen on top of his head, knocking his glasses askew. Embarrassed, Albus adjusted his glasses and was in the middle of an apology when he suddenly felt large hands grab him by the collar of his shirt, lifting him clear off the ground and slamming him into the nearest book shelf.

"So, it's a Peppertongue reject," the man snarled out, his frightening face an inch or two away from Albus'. The boy (if Albus could honestly call him that), and his gargantuan friends all wore traditional robes, the Zenbazi emblem blazing on the front of their clothes. They were just students, but that was hardly any consolation to Albus as he looked up at the boy who was holding him easily several inches off the ground. When did students get so huge? Albus hardly claimed to be the largest man in the world, but it was unfair that a mere student could lift him up so easily. He was a professor! It really was rather embarrassing.

Before Albus could properly apologize, the boy continued. "I'm sick and tired of you freaks walking around like you own the place. I've never seen you around before, so allow us to teach you how things work around here," he spat out before promptly drawing his fist back. Albus had assumed that if a fight occurred, he would have been the one to break it up. He had never guessed he would have been in it. Seeing the boy draw his fist back, Albus closed his eyes and braced himself, trying to will himself to melt in with the books.

The punch, however, never came. Instead, a hand grabbed him by his upper arm and pulled him away from the book shelf. Realizing he had been rescued, Albus felt like someone had cast a jelly legs hex on him as the adrenaline disappeared. He was thankful that his savior was holding onto him tightly because he was sure he would crumble otherwise. Fisticuffs were simply not something that happened in polite society.

That feeling of thankfulness did not last long, however, as a familiar voice filled his ears, causing his eyes to widen with dread. It was a voice he never thought he would hear again. "Just what did I tell you about picking fights, Collins? Detentions for the lot of you. Now go," the voice bellow authoritatively. Albus lifted his head up enough to watch as the group of monstrous youths turned on their heels obediently to walk away.

"Yes, Professor Malfoy," they had muttered as they left.

There was silence between the two men as they both watched the boys shuffle off. Suddenly, Albus heard the other man speak, able to feel his whole face reddening, unable to look up at the man who had just saved him from getting punched. "Sorry about that. They are just antsy with school starting soon. Are you alright?"

Albus kept his head turned down for as long as he could before he looked up at his ex-housemate with a weak smile. "... Hello Scorpius. It's...it's nice to see you again. How are your parents?"

Now, it was Scorpius's turn to fall into stunned silence. The weakling Peppertongue student he had mercifully saved from the hands of his own pupils had turned out to be none other than the youngest son of the Wizarding World's Golden Boy. "You have got to be joking," was all he could say before he began to laugh.

If it were possible, Albus' face just grew even hotter as he tried to make himself as small as possible, hoping he would just disappear. He felt cornered and began to look over Scorpius's should so a convenient exit.

* * *

><p>When Malfoy realized that the man in front of him really was none other than Albus Severus Potter, he had insisted on catching up with him. He acted as if the last few years never happened. Before Albus had a chance to protest, Scorpius had pulled out his wand and charmed the books off the group and into the air before he took them over to the counter, paying for them. All Albus could do was follow behind him mutely, suddenly feeling incredibly childish. Scorpius always had a way of making Albus feel like a naive child.<p>

Scorpius slipped the bags of books into Albus' hands before he led him up the stairs to the cafe on the third floor. If Scorpius was saying anything while they walked, Albus was hardly paying attention. The whole situation felt like some sort of horrible joke. He had leftEuropein relative secrecy, only to bump into Scorpius of all people. It just didn't seem fair.

Scorpius bought tea for the two of them and Albus could not muster up the strength needed to tell him he was an adult with his own money and he could pay for himself. It was amazing how, after all the years that had passed, after all that had happened between the two of them, they fell so easily back into old habits.

Even back in Hogwarts, whenever they went out, Scorpius went out of his way to get things for Albus. James had said that he was just doing it to show off that, despite the war, Malfoys still had money to burn. James had told Albus he should be insulted and tell Malfoy to sod off. Instead, Albus would just accept everything Scorpius would get for him and thank him quietly. It was the sort of student Albus had been and it seemed it was the sort of professor he had become.

"Thank you, Scorpius," Albus muttered as he rotated his warm cup of tea in his hands. He still hadn't made eye contact with the blond who sat across from him, no doubt studying him intensely.

"What exactly are you doing here, Potter?" Scorpius finally asked. Albus felt himself physically tense. _Potter_. Scorpius had called him 'Potter'. He knew it was his name, but it hurt a little. There was a time when Scorpius used to call him from his first name. Now, he was 'Potter', just like his brother and sister.

Albus was not sure how to respond to his question. There was so much he wanted to tell him, but he knew if he said too much it would annoy Scorpius. He hated long winded stories and Albus, if nothing else, could get a little long winded. He was in serious danger of turning into his generation's Professor Binns. Even his own father had told him that much. No, he would have to be short, sweet, and to the point. He lifted his head up just enough to make fleeting eye-contact. "I'm a teacher."

Scorpius looked unamused, rolling his eyes. "Really? I had no idea." Damn it. That had been entirely the wrong thing to say, it seemed. "Don't be curt with me, Potter. I did save your sorry hide, remember," he said, slender fingers beginning to tap on the oak table.

Albus sighed in resignation, his eyes following Scorpius' tapping fingers. Reaching up, he took off his reading glasses and set them down on the table. "Well, I recently got a job offer to teach Defense against the Dark Arts at Peppertongue. It seemed more suitable to my skills than an office position. I...I...if I hadn't picked Peppertongue, I would be working for the Ministry of Magic right now." Scorpius nodded his head thoughtfully, sipping at his tea. At the very least, Albus seemed to have answered his question acceptably this time. Albus dared to take a drink of his own tea. "Do you come here often?" he asked suddenly. Ugh. Embarrassment hit him as soon as the words had rushed from between his traitorous lips.

Scorpius, on the other hand, just smiled, running long fingers through his white blond tendrils, tucking locks of hair behind his ear. "Despite the fact that I _have_ only been here less than a week," Albus could feel his blush spread to his ears," I do come to this particular cafe almost every day. The only way I can enjoy a proper cup of tea in this country is if I do so away from students and teachers."

"I'm not surprised. You have always been like that, haven't you, Scorpius," Albus said softly, starting to feel a little braver. "You never did make much of an effort to hide the fact you found company to be contemptuous."

"You've changed, Potter," Scorpius said quickly, not missing a beat. He didn't look angry. His face was unreadable. He looked like Lucas. Potter wondered if Scorpius was well versed in Occlumency as well. He wanted to ask, but thought better of it.

Curiosity, after all, had killed the cat and Albus had already had his brush with death earlier. Then again, Albus wanted, needed, to know the truth. "Scorpius, why…," he muttered, struggling to find the words, "that letter…," he could feel his chest constricting uncomfortably, "why did you want to stop being my friend?"

"Yes, I figured you would bring that up," Scorpius said, waving dismissively.

What? Was Scorpius seriously going to treat him like that, now? "How can you be so...so blasé about it? You just dropped me via a note by owl. Who does that? I was so-I _am_ so _angry_ with you," Albus blurted out. He did not even bother to look embarrassed. Who cared if he sounded like a jilted lover? He certainly didn't. "Who on earth do you think you are? I don't care if you are a Malfoy. You are a right bastard and I am absolutely disgusted by the very sight of you."

Scorpius smiled. "You're right," he said easily and Albus could feel his rage deflate. "I was a bastard, a git, and a completely insufferable prat."

Albus clenched his jaw, looking down at his tea. "You are not...even going to defend yourself?"

"Why would I? Potter, I really am sorry for having hurt you. At the time I thought it would be better for us both if you and I were no longer friends," Scorpius explained, his voice softening so that only the two of them could hear. "I really was wrong."

"So why didn't you just tell me that? You should have just told me you had made a mistake." His words sounded desperate even to himself, but Albus didn't care. He had been dreaming of this moment for years.

Scorpius reached out to pour Albus a fresh cup of tea. "I wanted to, but my mother sent me a letter."

"What sort of letter?" Albus had spoken to Astoria Malfoy only a handful of times but she had seemed to like him. Had that been a lie?

Scorpius could tell what Albus was contemplating just from the scowl that was forming on Albus's face and he interjected before paranoia properly took hold. "Apparently, a little bird had told her about what became of us," Albus shifted uncomfortably. After Scorpius had broken their friendship, he might have owled his mother to find out if something terrible had happened to Scorpius to change him so. His mother had seemed as startled by the news as he had.

"She was annoyed with me for having broken up our friendship. She might have even said that there were precious few who would put up with all of my eccentricities as well as you had. Oh, how she loved to talk about all you had done and accomplished. I know she meant for me to see my foolishness and appreciate what I had had…but…when I read all you had done without me, well…it was obvious that you did not need my friendship."

Albus looked up at him now, eyes wide, disbelieving what he was hearing. "You're right. I didn't need our friendship," he snapped and Scorpius shrunk back, shoulders slumping. It seemed he was not as distant as he pretended. Albus's rage calmed as he sipped at his tea, "I did not need it… but I had wanted it. I thought you were supposed to be one of the brightest wizards of our generation. You really are a-a-" When Albus could not think of a proper word, he grabbed a handful of sugar cubes and threw them at Scorpius, annoyed. While Malfoy laughed, Albus grabbed several more cubes and put them into his tea, angrily mixing it all together.

Scorpius leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands as he smirked. "I take it that means you forgive me?"

Albus just huffed as he tossed back his cup of tea.

* * *

><p>Despite the initial awkwardness, his reunion with Scorpius Malfoy had gone off much better than he had thought. Back in school, Scorpius would often corner him into conversations when he needed to get something off his chest, but Albus would be too flabbergasted to carry a proper conversation. Around Scorpius, Albus felt both awe and fear. Now that he was older, though, Albus was able to better appreciate Scorpius as a conversationalist.<p>

He was actually quite a witty person, though his wit tended to be of the sharp and dark variety.

Since graduating, Albus had met both Scorpius' father and grandfather. Lucius Malfoy had softened a little after the war, Albus was told, but he still walked around with an air of dignity and nobility. Even those who hated him couldn't say that Lucius wasn't the very image of "proper" upbringing.

Draco Malfoy, on the other hand, was much kinder than his father. After the War, he had quickly realized that the ideals he had been raised with were not ones worth fighting for, dying for, or passing onto his son. He had gone out of his way to change the Malfoy image. He donated heavily to the restoration effort and with his position in the Ministry; he even sought to ease tensions between pure blood families and half-bloods. There were some who were still bitter towards Draco Malfoy for who he had been back at Hogwarts, but his efforts to change himself and pure-blood mentality had been so sincere that people were starting to slowly trust him. Even Albus' own father had slowly begun to get onto better terms with Draco, neither of them wanting to continue their school-yard rivalries.

Scorpius had been one of the reasons why people were beginning to soften their anger towards the Malfoys, and Albus knew it. Draco had been very careful about raising Scorpius to be a better man than he had been and it showed. Back at Hogwarts, Scorpius openly bucked against trends set forth by the older pure blood houses. He even heard that during one of the parties the Malfoys threw, Scorpius had openly called several of his grandfather's friends "toxic to our world" because of something they had said about half-bloods. They had demanded that Draco punish his son.

From what Albus was told, they had been completely surprised when Draco asked them to leave the premises before he threw them out. For a Malfoy to act like that against the heads of any pure blood clan, it was big news.

That fact had been one of the reasons why Albus had been so jealous of Scorpius while they went to Hogwarts, and even long after, right up to that very moment.

When Scorpius had been sorted into Slytherin, no one was surprised. When Albus had been placed into Slytherin, people mumbled that if Harry Potter's son could be sorted into that House, maybe it was not as evil as once thought. Albus would never admit it, but that was how he thought things would stay. He was Harry Potter's son. He was different from the other students. People expected him to start revolutions in the hearts of people wherever he went. Albus took for granted that he knew his role at school, so when people suddenly began singing Scorpius' praises instead of his own, he felt jealous.

Even though Scorpius had been placed into Slytherin just as he had, people saw him as a darling. Scorpius was actively trying to change people's minds, they said. He openly defended half-bloods and anyone who was being attacked, they praised. Scorpius didn't care about his own reputation; he would call out any injustice he saw. Surely, people would say, Scorpius had been sorted into the wrong House. He belonged in Gryffindor. Scorpius was the snake with a lion's heart. Even if Albus tried to do good, it always, _always_, paled in comparison to anything Scorpius did. Albus came from a family of good and just wizards. Doing good was expected from him. Scorpius came from a long line of dark wizards. For him to fight so openly on the side of the light, well, _that_ was a _miracle_.

It had been around his second year that Albus had decided to simply stop trying to be a hero. How freeing it was, not needing to follow in his father's blessed footsteps. It was in that moment he decided to just live the life of a normal student that he realized that he belonged in Slytherin more than any other house. He was nothing like his brother James who would have rallied against Scorpius until he could prove that once a snake, always a snake. Albus had coolly weighed his options and realized that each time he went up against Scorpius Malfoy, it would be the Malfoy heir who would come out on top. For that reason, Albus had decided to just stop playing the game.

There was no need to be ashamed of not wanting to play a game without a guarantee of victory. It was not cowardice, it was risk assessment. He stopped competing against Scorpius, but the jealousy had not completely disappeared. It was weaker than it had been in school, but it was still there, starting to wake up even as he and Scorpius laughed and told stories over tea, picking their friendship up right where they had left it years ago.

When he was finally ready to leave, Albus thanked Scorpius for everything he had done for him, and for the books. Scorpius held a hand out for Albus. "I really am here every day, around noon for tea. If you have free time, why don't you join me. It would be nice to have someone to complain to." Albus chuckled, shaking his head. His old friend really was a prat sometimes.

With that, Albus descended down the stairs in order to gather his pupils. For years he had mused what he would say to Scorpius Malfoy if he ever met him face-to-face again. He thought of insults, of accusations, of snide remarks, but in the end, Albus had been the very picture of politeness. He had said all of his please-and-thank-yous. His grandmother would be proud of him, even though he himself felt ashamed. He was twenty-five years old already and still held onto school boy jealousies and admirations. Scorpius had gone off and become a renowned potions master while he had remained pathetically average. Despite all that, he could not even bring himself to hate the man he had been fixated on for years. In Scorpius's presence, Albus had deflated and had been so happy to speak with him again, he had forgotten why he should have kept him at a distance. Had he learned nothing? Perhaps he learned nothing from the last few years because his desire to have his friend back out weighed his desire to protect himself from pain. Perhaps he didn't care.

As Albus walked back to Peppertongue, trailing behind his group, Lucas slowed down so he could walk beside him. "So who was that blond? You guys looked like you were having fun talking, so I thought 'old friend', but now that I looked at you... if he's made you upset, I can beat him up if you want?" Albus smiled. How like Lucas to offer to bodily harm Albus's imagined bully. "We've perfected the super stink bomb, you know. Say the word and we'll booby trap his whole office. We have our ways of getting into Zenbazi."

Albus could not help but laugh at himself. He hadn't realized he had been showing his feelings on his face. "No, no, that will not be necessary, Lucas. He is an old friend. I was just reminiscing about our school days, I suppose. Regretting some things I said and did, some things I didn't say or do. You know?"

"No, can't say I do," Lucas said with a shrug. "I'm not old like you." Well then. "Besides, I never regret anything. I say and do whatever I want, whenever I want. If I make a mistake, then I apologize. If they don't accept my apologies, I say "fuck you then, asshole" and move on."

Lucas _would_ say something like that, Albus mused to himself. He was not even surprised by Lucas' words any longer. After all, why should he? He had known the boy long enough by then to know how he felt about lingering in the past. Rather than give Lucas the pleasure of knowing he had just taught a teacher something, Albus smiled at him. "By the way, what did you mean you had ways of getting into Zenbazi?"

Lucas said nothing as he quickly ran up to his friends without looking back at Albus. It was his way of ending a conversation. Albus just smiled as he watched the students chat with one another. He realized that he really should heed Lucas' lesson, even if he never said it to the young man's face.

Scorpius had apologized. Albus had missed him terribly. There was no shame in wanting one's closest friend to be near. It was not weakness. It was simple human nature. It was simple Slytherin nature.

One cannot excel in everything, so it is important to surround oneself with people who complement one's own abilities, Albus told himself. He had read it in a book once. He spent the rest of the walk up the hill to the school trying to recall which book it had been.

* * *

><p>Later that day, after dinner, Albus and the other teachers had been called into the principal's office. When they walked in, Albus could sense something was amiss. Rutherford looked more nervous than usual and beside his desk stood a woman in an expensive business suit. A woman Albus did not recognize and what struck him as unusual was that she looked just as worried as Rutherford did. That could not have been a good sign of things to come.<p>

"Please, everyone sit down." The staff all moved to do so, the usually chatty group not uttering a single sound. "As most of you know, this is Ms. Clare Hopkins. Clare, this is our new Defense teacher, Mr. Albus Potter,"Rutherford said as the woman held a hand out for Albus, who took it politely though he was unable to hide his weary expression.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Potter. It's a shame that you must join us at such a terrible time," she said softly, the other teachers going deathly quiet, Mr. Harwood paling. "I'm afraid to have to tell you, despite my desperate pleading, the Education Council has gone forth with budget cuts." The teachers now began talking, all at once, but Clare attempted to talk over them all. "I must thank you all for agreeing to such a tremendous pay cut. Because of that, I have managed to convince the council to allow Peppertongue to stay open for the remainder of the term. Afterwards, the students who can afford it will be allowed to transfer to Kingston or Zenbazi. Wards of the state will be given alternative forms of education."

"A...alternative forms of education?" Albus had asked. The woman's words had his mind reeling. As his heart plummeting into his stomach.

"She means independent study," Mr. Foster said quietly, his normally jolly smile replaced with a hardened frown. "They will study at their homes and once a week, someone from the Council will administer a written test on what they learned."

"But this school is everything to these kids!" Albus cried out. The idea of these children trying to learn magic on their own, isolated from friends, it was unimaginable.

The woman just sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Mr. Potter, I agree with you. If there was something I could do to keep Peppertongue open, I would do it. We have all already taken massive cuts in pay, the classes are over-crowded, we haven't had new equipment in quite some time, and most of what we do have has been graciously donated to us by the shop owners in Dragons Camp. This school is almost entirely run by the Council." Albus removed his glasses, cleaning them out of habit as he mulled over her words. He was no longer disoriented. He was thinking, trying to find some sort of solution. He was trying to determine if a solution was even possible.

"Peppertongue is one of over fifty Council-run schools. There just isn't money to keep all these schools open or to pay for the tuition of all of the wards of the state. We can only do with what we have. The students will still learn magic, I promise. They will just have to do it with what we as a community can afford to give to them. I'm sorry, everyone," Ms. Hopkins said, bowing her head, "I did what I could."

A few minutes later, the teachers were dismissed, all of them returning to their quarters quietly. When he was alone in his room, Albus could feel tears of frustration stinging in his eyes as he laid down in his bed. He didn't care if he would be out of a job by the end of the term. He could always get another one. What hurt him was the idea of students like Lucas being torn away from the one place they considered home and the only people they considered family. They would be forced into isolation to simply study, be tested, and then pushed through the system.

Over the last two weeks, he had grown close to the students of the school. Classes had yet to begin, but they were his students. They were his to protect. Albus felt powerless as a teacher. He had failed before he had even begun.

* * *

><p><strong>September 15, 2031<strong>

Classes had started a week ago, but by then, news of the closure had already made its way through the school like wild fire. Albus found it impossible to conduct classes that way. The older students were disinterested and apathetic about lessons. Why bother studying when in a matter of months, they would be shuffled somewhere else and have to play academic catch-up?

The younger students, especially the first years, were nearly inconsolable. They would do their best to learn their lessons through tear-soaked faces only to burst into tears and cling to Albus, begging him to not let send them home. Anywhere but home, they pleaded. He tried to tell them that it wouldn't be so bad, but they couldn't hear him over their wailing.

Lucas never bothered to even show up for his classes. He had locked himself away in the basement of the school. None of the teachers could even figure out what room he was in, assuming they made a full-hearted attempt to find him. Almost as if protecting the young boy, the rooms closed and locked their doors and rearrange whenever a teacher went looking for him. Even the ghosts refused to help the teachers find him. Albus made sure to go down to the basements and leave Lucas food, making the ghosts promise to make sure Lucas ate. After a while, the teachers let him be. They all knew Lucas stood to lose the most when the school closed. There was nothing they could tell him in consolation that would be of any help.

When the first weekend since the start of school arrived, Albus stayed in bed longer than he knew he should. Care for magical creatures wouldn't start for another two weeks, so there was no reason for him to get up.

"It's foolish for you to stay in bed so long, son," came a familiar, gravelly voice. Opening his eyes, Albus looked over to the painting on the wall. It was of an old man, dressed as a doctor, sitting at his desk, jotting down notes.

"Leave me alone, Doctor, please. I just need to sleep. This week has been miserable. I can't face my students," he muttered, rolling onto his stomach as he burrowed his face into the pillow.

"Ah, yes. I have heard. Those poor little ones. I really wish someone would make this situation go away," the friendly old man said, rubbing his neatly trimmed beard. "That little tyke in the basements has been making quite the mess all week. He's been exploding things left and right. He's screaming louder than any of the patients. It's quite unsettling."

"You think I don't know that?" Albus sighed, lifting his head to more comfortably look at the Doctor. "I don't know much about what his home life is like, but he's in hiding. That's not the sign of a happy home, is it? And yet, there's nothing I can do. He will have to go back like every other child like him. They all have to go ust because there isn't enough money t-" Albus stopped suddenly.

"What is it, young professor? You haven't had a brain aneurysm have you?"

"No, I'm fine. It's just...I realized something," he muttered, moving to sit up, a slow smile crossing his face. "It's money that will fix things, right? I mean, I thought about asking my dad earlier, but...I don't know if my dad would go for it. I would be too ashamed to ask him anyway. I don't have much in the way of money myself, but I do know someone who does." Now, Albus was getting excited, jumping out of the bed, beginning to get dressed. "I just realized that if I could pitch giving money to this school to be like a business investment, he might go for it. Right? What do you think?"

The man in the painting seemed to weigh what Albus told him. Slowly he smiled as he nodded. "I think it wouldn't hurt to state your case. Though, do make sure you trust this man. If he agrees to help you, you would be in his debt."

"Don't worry. I know what I'm doing," Albus said as he slipped into his suit. He hoped he knew what we was doing.

* * *

><p><strong>September 20, 2031<strong>

Albus shifted slightly in his seat as he looked at his pocket watch for maybe the tenth time in about as many minutes. It was a little after noon now, and if Scorpius had been honest about always going to the same cafe for afternoon tea at the same time, he would be there soon. Albus, however, had been sitting there since a little after ten that morning. He needed the time to think about what he wanted to say. He must have already had a half dozen cups of tea.

"Potter, is that you? Dressed like a professor, I see." Finally, Scorpius had arrived, going over to sit across from Albus. He ordered a cup of coffee. Albus sat up a little straight, trying his best to make himself seem serious. He was wearing one of his good suits and his hair was combed back. Wire-framed glasses sat perched on his nose. Albus was tense, Scorpius, in his traditional professor's robes and suit looked relaxed, leaning back against his chair. He wore all black and the way he sat was reminiscent of the painting he had seen of Headmaster Snape in the Slytherin dormitories.

"S-Scorpius, I have a favor to ask of you," he said, reaching out to pour Scorpius a cup of tea, disregarding the fact he had just ordered coffee. He was trying hard to not look at the man who sat up now, his eye brow arched curiously. Even without looking at him, he knew Scorpius was looking amused. He knew what he was thinking.

A Potter asking something of a Malfoy? The world must surely be on the verge of collapse.

"A favor?" Scorpius asked, voice rising slightly, interest piqued.

"Well, not so much as a favor as it is a, um, a business proposal. An investment!" Albus quickly assured him. He had hardly said anything and his courage was already failing him. Why, or why, couldn't he have inherited a little bit of his parents' Gryffindor spine! "The...the Education Council, it's, they're, well, they're closing down Peppertongue at the end of the term because there just isn't money to go around. I mean, I can appreciate how expensive a school is to run, so..."

Scorpius relaxed back against his chair, sipping at his tea. "So, basically, your school is going to close and you're going to be out a job?"

"That's not it!" Albus suddenly shouted, jumping to his feet as he slammed his fists down on the table. His voice had sounded incredibly loud in his own ears, but he just couldn't stop himself now, "I don't care if I get sacked, it has nothing to do with me. It's the students, Scorpius. Without the school, they're going to be sent home. They can't afford to go to another school. They're going to learn magic away from the wizarding community. They're going to be sent back to homes they just escaped from! I can't let them lose the only place that accepts them, Scorpius; I won't let them be taken away from the people they see as their families! If I had money, I would support the school myself, but unlike you, I never had a sense for business. And if I went to my father, it would be a clear sign that I failed again. He would treat me like an overly sensitive child forever."

"You are. You're crying," Scorpius pointed out easily, his expression not once changing as he moved to pour himself more tea.

Suddenly Albus realized he had been right. Reaching up, he felt tears falling down his cheeks. Wiping at them with the back of his sleeve, he shrank back into his seat, slumping.

"In any case, I'll do it. I'll play patron to your little school," he said, thanking the waitress for the coffee.

Albus looked at Scorpius now like he had grown an extra head that only communicated via German arias. "What? Why would you agree to it, Scorpius?" Albus asked, his voice trembling as he tried to figure out if Scorpius was just yanking his chain.

"Lots of reasons, really," he said simply, shrugging. "You should never underestimate a Malfoy's desire to see buildings named after him. Also..."

"Also?" Albus had repeated, almost fearfully.

Scorpius grinned almost predatorily now as he looked over at Albus, slightly cocking his head, "Also, a Malfoy has never had a Potter so securely tucked away in his pocket before. At least, until now. "

So that was the angle Scorpius wanted to play. Albus could not say that he was surprised. Scorpius might have been touted as having the heart of a Gryffindor, but he had been sorted into Slytherin for a reason. He was self-serving, even if he was fair. Anyone who said anything different was a fool for having been taken in by Scorpius's facade.

"What exactly would you want in return for your help?"

"Honestly? I have no idea. There is not anything you have that I want at the moment. For now, why don't you just meet up with me for tea every day? I'm sure I'll come with something eventually. Well, do we have a deal?" he asked, holding out a hand.

Albus examined the hand, his own remaining at his side.

His rational side was screaming out for him to run as quickly as he could out of the building and forget all about asking a Malfoy for help. The deal was obviously stacked in Scorpius' favor. If Albus agreed to Scorpius' terms, he would be in Malfoy's debt indefinitely, until Malfoy released him. Calculating his own odds, Albus would probably be dead before any Malfoy would willingly release a Potter from debt. Only a fool would accept such an unequal trade.

And Albus was just desperate enough to be that fool. "We do," he said, reaching out to take Scorpius' hand.

* * *

><p>When Monday morning rolled around, Rutherford and a very excited looking Ms. Hopkins had called all of the students and teachers together for breakfast. Albus had even convinced Lucas that he would not want to miss the announcement.<p>

"It's my pleasure to announce to you all a rather wonderful piece of news," Rutherford started as he stood up, looking out over the packed dining hall, holding his hands out, everyone hanging onto his every word with baited breath, "At the eleventh hour, a gracious donor has stepped forth and has agreed to become patron of this school. Everyone, please welcome Mr. Scorpius Malfoy!"

The whole room sat in stunned silence was a tall man, dressed in a tailor made expensive black suit, walked in and took a spot between Rutherford and Hopkins. The children looked up at Malfoy, shock written all over their faces, none of them daring to believe that Rutherford's words meant what it sounded like they did. In their experiences, miracles did not happen without a price.

The room was so quiet that Malfoy could be heard even without having to cast _Sonorus _on himself. "It means, " Scorpius began, his voice as smooth as velvet, a kind smile on his face, "none of you children will have to leave." With that simple sentence, the whole room burst into cheers, sobs and applause, hundreds of students suddenly out of their chairs, rushing forward to thank the man who had saved them. Albus stayed where he was in the back of the room, sitting near Lucas who was quietly shoveling eggs and bacon into his mouth, blinking at tears that threatened to fall down his red cheeks.

Albus went over to sit beside him, patting his back. "You've missed a lot of class so far, but I'm sure you can catch up. It's only been a week," he said, Lucas just nodding his head, beginning to openly cry from relief as he tried to eat his breakfast. Turning his head, looking over at the swarm of students, Albus noticed that Scorpius was looking at him over their heads. When their eyes met, Scorpius grinned.

Albus didn't regret the deal he had agreed to, even if it did feel like he had just signed a deal with the devil. Reaching out, he ruffled Lucas's hair.

**TBC**


	3. A 'Friend' is Never a 'Nobody'

****Author's Note: [06/29/2012] ****This chapter has been edited. Some parts of it might have been changed. Thank you all so much for sticking with this story! If you find mistakes, feel free to tell me in a PM or in a review. Thank you and happy reading!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

**"In My Opinion, a 'Friend' is Never a 'Nobody'"**

* * *

><p><strong>October 23, 2031<strong>

The lights were dimmed and flickering. Down the hall, two bodies were standing close, speaking in hushed whispers. Suddenly, one stepped close, pressing the other against the wall. "I love you. I always have," he whispered, warm lips pressing against pale blond hair.

"Thank you?" came the unsure reply.

"Is that all?" Lips moved from ear to mouth. The chaste kiss deepened as warm lips pressed firmly against cooler ones. One was eager, the other neither accepted the invitation, nor pulled away. Confusion set in now as the bodies parted. "Aren't you going to say anything else? I said 'I love you'."

"I don't understand what I'm supposed to say." An honest response. He wasn't being spiteful. He really _didn't _understand.

"Just...forget about it," he sighed and pulled away, walking down the hall. "I'll see you at practice tomorrow, Lucas. Night."

"Alright. Good night, Matthew."

Down the hall, hidden away in the dark, Albus covered his mouth to keep from making noises. His cheeks were red, that much he knew. He knew he had seen something that he shouldn't have. He knew he should have given the two boys a little privacy, but he had been worried that they were about to fight. That had been the reason why he had moved in closer to hear what they were saying. Albus had been taken by surprise when he saw Matthew kissing Lucas so passionately. He had no idea that Matthew had felt like that about Lucas. Though looking back, he supposed he could have seen the signs.

Albus was so lost in thought that he practically jumped when he felt an arm hook around one of his. "Well, well, Professor Potter. Out of bed after curfew, are we? I think this calls for a detention," Lucas chuckled, looking up at Albus, arching one eyebrow gracefully.

Albus was too embarrassed to look at him. "I-I think that's my line, Mr. Rutherford."

"You saw it, didn't you," he said softly, hanging his head a bit.

"I, er, I did, but it's alright. I mean, I don't mind. You boys are at that age. And I mean, things like that happen, especially between friends, right?" Albus offered. He wasn't quite sure what to say in such a situation, but he was determined to say _something_. This was like a test for all teachers. There would eventually come a time when they would have to offer non-academic support for their students. He would not fail his first trial.

"I know it's normal. Especially for Matthew," he said easily, beginning to walk down the hall with Albus. "I don't really care."

"You mean that you don't like it when he k-kisses you?" Albus questioned, suddenly finding it hard to swallow. When did his hands get so clammy?

"I don't... hate it. Objectively, he's a great kisser." Albus could feel his blush deepening. He could not have been that sheltered, could he? "But I just don't get the point. And don't give me that look. I'm not some wall flower. I've kissed loads of people. Boys and girls. But it's all the same thing, isn't it? They say they love me, but I don't understand what that means."

"It means that...that they care about you." Albus muttered, not really understanding what Lucas was driving at. Love was love, wasn't it? How does one explain love? It had always been so integral in his own life that he took for granted that everyone understood it. "I mean, haven't you ever loved anything? Like a... pet or something?" He had almost said parent, but changed his mind at the last moment.

"No."

"Are...you sure?" What else could he say?

"I'm almost sure. People always throw the word 'love' around like I'm supposed to know what it means. How do you know you're feeling love?" he asked curiously, looking up at Albus now. He asked that as simply as if he had asked how to properly recite a spell. Surely, he had to know how awkward that question was.

But he had asked and Albus figured he was owed some kind of explanation.

"Let's see. When you're in love with someone, you get very happy whenever you see them. Then, when they go away, you feel sad and wish you could be with them more. You want to hold the other person close and you get jealous when someone else tries to take their attention away. When you love someone, their smile and happiness become the most precious things in the world to you. When they're upset, you get even angrier than them, for them. You want to make whatever is upsetting them go away." Albus knew he sounded ridiculous and was getting the feeling Lucas was playing around with him.

But when he looked down at Lucas, the boy actually seemed to be seriously considering his words. He was sincere. Albus continued. "When you love someone, you want to protect them. You would be willing to give up anything for them. You think to yourself, if it came down to it, you would willingly lay down your life for them."

Lucas soon chuckled, shrugging as he let go of Albus and walked forward, stretching out his arms. He stifled a yawn. "Eh, then I guess I never felt love. Happy just because someone else is smiling? Being willing to sacrifice myself for them? That sounds like a miserable existence. Like, I don't know, being put under the _Imperius _curse**. **But if Matthew loves me, might as well go with it. There is a new broom I've been eying for a while."

Albus reached out, putting a hand on Lucas' shoulder. "You shouldn't do that. Matthew is your friend and if he does love you, it would break his heart if you just used him for things, Lucas."

"By your logic, he'll be happy as long as he thinks he's doing things that make _me _happy. I don't see the problem."

"The problem is you don't love him back. Those things, they don't mean as much when you're doing them for someone who won't love you in return. Unrequited love hurts more than being rejected outright," Albus said softly, willing the young man to understand.

Albus knew Lucas wasn't cruel; he just honestly didn't seem to know how to handle people who got close to him.

Lucas huffed lightly as that. "So basically, what you're saying is that unless you love the person back, love has no personal benefit. That sucks. Not that it matters. I mean, it's not like it's a real thing, right?"

Looking over at him in confusion, Albus cocked his head. "What?"

"I mean, it's not like love is a real..._thing_. It doesn't actually exist. Like Santa or the Easter Bunny or the Tooth Fairy. There is no way anyone feels as intensely for one another as the way love is defined," he said with a light shrug, as if he were saying the most obvious thing ever.

Albus watched him, his mouth open. He was at a loss for words. "But...that isn't true. Love exists. It's real."

"Is it really?" he said with a small laugh. "I doubt it, but maybe feeling love is like...being able to see all the colors in the spectrum clearly. Some people are color blind. Maybe I'm, I don't know, love-blind?" he offered.

Shoulders slumping, Albus stopped walking. Sometimes, Lucas said things that really cut into him. He looked the child over, looking desperately for some sign that he had been joking. He found nothing. He hated learning such sad things about his students. "You might be right. But it's...sad. I'm sad that you don't understand with it is to love someone."

Looking over at Albus incredulously for a moment, Lucas snorted. "Don't pity me, Mr. Potter. I might not understand love, but it's like any deficiency. My other senses make up for it. If I don't feel love, that means I should be able to feel intensities of hate you'd never understand. Anyway, good night. I got practice in the morning and Maddie will be pissed if I over-sleep again."

"I really should give you detention for being up after hours, Lucas."

Lucas just laughed as he began to jog down the halls. "Go ahead and give me detention, I'll just ditch! We're playing against your friend's school in a week and I'm not missing practice for nothing! Night-night, Mr. Potter, don't let the bed bugs bite!"

Albus chuckled weakly as he waved at Lucas. He hadn't given a detention out yet, even two months into school. Either his students were devilishly charismatic and charming or he was a bigger softy than the principal himself.

Turning, he began to walk back towards his own quarters. He tried to put Lucas' words out of his mind, but he was finding it impossible. People did not go their whole lives not understanding love. Even if they didn't think they had it in their own lives, they surely understood what it was. He just hadn't explained it well enough for Lucas to understand. He needed a better definition.

Though, just thinking about love in his own life made him embarrassed. Albus worried that perhaps _he_ was the wallflower.

* * *

><p>Albus was physically slumped forward in his seat at the cafe. Sighing, he rested his cheek against the table, fingers fiddling with the table cloth. He knew he was being silly, but he couldn't help it. After he said good night to Lucas, he had been unable to get to sleep, the boy's words playing and replaying in his mind. He wanted to know what had happened to make someone so young so cold, but he also did not want to pry. A small part of him confessed that he did not ask, not out of consideration for Lucas, but for himself. He was not sure how he would handle knowing what had happened to Lucas.<p>

"Does the thought of having tea with me upset you so badly, Potter?" Came a familiar voice followed by a light slap to the back of his head.

Albus reached up to rub the back of his head reflexively as he sat up. "Huh? No, that's not it, Scorpius. I just did not get much sleep last night. And wipe that depraved look off your face. I was just busy thinking."

Scorpius had indeed been about to make a lewd comment about Albus' mysterious "girlfriend", and huffed in agitation when he had been shut down. Albus was getting better at reading him, Scorpius thought. Almost as good as he used to be. "And what exactly is it that has you so worked up? Knowing you, you probably just realized that between two numbers there are infinite numbers. Oh wait, you already went through that back at school didn't you? I swear, sometimes, you could be a right Ravenclaw."

Feeling his face go bright red, Albus suddenly diverted all his attention to his cup of tea as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. Scorpius had been telling the truth. Back when he was a first year, he had gotten into a bit of an academic scuffle with an older Ravenclaw. The girl had insulted Albus' analysis on something or another and she had gone on a tirade on how much smarter she was than Albus. "I bet you haven't even realized that there are infinite numbers between all numbers!" She had screamed that at him at some point and at the time, he hadn't paid it any mind.

It was only as he was trying to get to sleep that her words had returned to him. Albus hadn't been able to sleep that whole night, running off numbers. Scorpius had been annoyed, Albus remembered that. Scorpius hated going to sleep before everyone else had gone off to bed. Albus had explained to Scorpius what that girl had said to him and why he couldn't sleep. For the rest of the night, the two boys stayed up: Albus unable to sleep for all the numbers in his head, Scorpius unable to sleep because Albus was still awake. At least karma was on Albus' side when a week later, she-

Suddenly, a look of realization dawn on Albus's face as he looked over at his blond-haired companion. "Scorpius," Albus said softly, Malfoy looking up at him curiously as he poured himself some tea, "you were the one who did it, weren't you? You turned Colette Perkins' hair into slugs. Don't deny it, Mr. Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy," Albus said, raising a finger to Scorpius. Merlin, when had he become his grandmother?

Indeed, for a moment, Scorpius had looked like he was going to try and cover up his past misdeeds. Albus never claimed to be particularly well-versed in Legilimency, so what Scorpius was actually thinking was, for the time being, firmly hidden. After a fleeting moment, Scorpius finally grinned, holding his hands up in defeat. "Fine, fine, you got me, Potter. Just, please don't tell me it took you this long to work out it was me. Everyone else figured it out the minute she came screeching down the tower like a banshee."

Albus shook his head. The hex, the prank as a whole, had Malfoy's unique signature all over it. "I guess I should have realized. You always did for the hair."

"Hey, now. Not just the hair. I always went for a person's best feature. Getting punched hurts your body, but getting punched in those prized pearly whites hurts your soul."

Albus could hardly stifle his snort as he brought his cup of cooling tea to his lips. In all these years, Scorpius had hardly changed at all. "Careful Scorpius. Your vanity is starting to show."

"Not that you can really blame me. Malfoy men have always been known to be incredibly handsome." Scorpius practically puffed his chest out at that, the Malfoy physical beauty a particular point of pride for the young man. Albus rolled his eyes. Saying Scorpius could be vain was akin to saying that the ocean had a penchant for being a little on the damp side a few months of the year. No matter what people would say about his family, no matter all the horrible things they threw at him, Scorpius had a habit of clinging to a single good point as if it excused all else. On good days, Albus found that to be annoying, on bad days, insufferable. Despite all that, however, Albus had to admire his old house-mate. Scorpius would never allow anyone to make him feel less about himself.

Scorpius had his admiration, but it didn't mean that Albus didn't find his exuberant pride to be irritating. "Maybe when they're young," he said with an easy shrug. He wasn't even sure why he was baiting Scorpius. The old Albus would have just nodded meekly and let the matter drop entirely. Maybe his parents' Gryffindor courage wasn't entirely lost in his Slytherin veins. Or maybe he was too Slytherin to let a good verbal spar go. "I've seen your predecessors, and, no offense, but receding hair lines never look good on anyone."

If it were possible for a human to puff up and hiss like a kneazle, Albus had no doubt that's what Scorpius would have done. As it were, he recoiled, glaring at Albus now, clearly insulted. "Have you seen your own father lately? He's got the wrinkles of a man twice his age! He's hardly a catch." Scorpius had gone back to grinning triumphantly all while glaring holes into Albus, challenging him to say something in return.

Before he could even balance the risks and benefits of acting out against the obvious attempt to get a rise out of him, Albus practically jumped to his feet. The logical, Slytherin part of his brain was telling him it was a trap and for him to sit down and shut up. The irrational Gryffindor part of his brain, tired of constantly being cowed, burst forward, gnashing its teeth, wanting to defend his family's honor. "You take that back! My dad is very much _still _a catch! A great catch!" Albus blurted out the words before their meaning fully registered in his heated brain.

Scorpius was obviously operating with a similarly automated mind as he hopped to his feet and blurted out, "Not as great a catch as my father!" without so much as missing a single beat. For a moment the two men panted as he glared daggers at each other. They both had their family's honors to defend, even if they were defending it against someone who, by most common metrics, was something of a friend.

Slowly, horror dawned on both of their faces as the adrenaline faded and their words replayed in their minds. Scorpius was the first one to sit back down, busying himself with an orange scone as if he had never seen one before in his life. Albus sat down not long after. Clearing his throat, Scorpius muttered, without looking at Albus, "I propose we never speak of this conversation again."

Albus' voice practically cracked as he squeaked out, "Agreed."

A silence settled over the two men. In silence, they drank their tea, ate their lunches, and flipped through magazines and newspapers. Albus was almost surprised how relaxed he could be around the youngest Malfoy. Back at school, the blond-haired boy had always made him nervous, even when he was, by all accounts, being nice to Albus. It just felt so _unnatural. _A Malfoy and a Potter getting along? Albus was sure that James would rather choke on his own bile than to share tea with Malfoy. Though, Albus did have to admit, Scorpius and his older brother hardly got along well enough for afternoon tea to even be an option.

Scorpius never bothered or hurt Albus, probably because they both wore green, but that just meant his pleasure doubled whenever he was picking a fight with James. Scorpius never missed an opportunity to harass the older boy back at school. It seemed to be _only _James. Albus could not think of a single time Scorpius had thrown a hateful word to his sister Lily.

In truth, that was probably because Scorpius hardly said anything to her. The most he had done was give her a curt hello whenever he found Albus in her company and needed to pull him away for whatever asinine reason. Once, he even confessed that he did not bother to pick on Lily because he saw her more as a Weasley than a Potter. While there was hardly any love lost between Draco Malfoy and Albus' uncle Ron, the Malfoy/Potter feud had a much more poetic feel to it and it was hard for someone so drawn to the dramatic as Scorpius to avoid. Now that he was not brewing hatred towards Scorpius Malfoy, Albus was surprised that he was able to recollect as many good memories with him as he was.

During their first year, Albus had been particularly lonely, being the only one in his family in Slytherin, and had taken to hiding under one of the tables in the common room. He knew that he could have simply gone to the Gryffindor dorms and any one of the lions would have let him in. They would have been eager to catch up with him and to glean information regarding the Slytherin Quidditch team. He was surprised that Gryffindors were not as above cheating as they would have one believe. Letter of the law, not spirit of the law, they had told him. He knew he could have gone and spent time with his siblings and cousins, but he did not because at the end of the day, he would have had to return to the dungeons and then he would feel even more alone. Albus got it in his head that if he never saw his family, he would never have to say goodbye to them and he would be somehow better for it.

After classes, he would dart back to the dungeons before anyone could stop him. He did not even need to tell his housemates not to let any Potter or Weasley into the common rooms, no matter how much they said they needed to talk to him. Albus was the only one of the clan most Slytherins could stand. After a few weeks, his family stopped trying to chase him. They figured he needed some time to deal with his situation, as unlucky as it was.

Albus had spent almost all day in his bed, refusing to get up. He had no friends among the snakes, so no one tried to pull Albus out of his self-imposed misery. One day, almost a month into school, Scorpius had suddenly sat down on the edge of Albus' bed and did not bother moving, even when Albus' red-rimmed eyes glared at him, suddenly defensive.

He nearly screamed out when Scorpius had pulled out his wand and pointed it out to him. If what his uncle Ron had told him about Malfoys were true, he was probably going to assassinate him. He was too scared to even hear what Scorpius had called.

Instead of a green flash, a small snake burst out from Scorpius' wand and landed on the bed. Rather than be afraid, Albus just sat up and looked at the small snake in awe. He was not afraid of snakes. Actually, he was rather fond of them. Unlike a lot of creatures, they gave you warning when you were annoying them. Otherwise, they did not mind attention. They were easy to read and Albus liked any creature he could read easily. Scorpius smiled when he saw that Albus at least seemed entertained by his _Serpensortia_.

Years later, Scorpius would explain to Albus just why he was such a fan of that particular spell. His father would often cast it for him when he was a child and Scorpius loved watching the snakes do tricks to brighten his mood. Scorpius only told Albus later, in their seventh year, that he had actually spent nearly two weeks trying to learn that spell properly just to cheer him up. As Scorpius flicked his wand to and fro, the snake slithered and flipped. Albus had forgotten his sadness as he laughed, cheering the snake on as it continued to perform tricks.

Eventually, Scorpius had directed the snake towards Albus. It darted up Albus' robes, the young boys writhing on the bed as he squealed out in laughter, trying to get the snake out of his clothes. Even Scorpius was laughing as he snakes moved about before finally loosely moving around Albus' neck like a chain, happily warming its cool body against Albus's neck.

Albus composed himself as he sat up, eying Scorpius curiously. Scorpius seemed to be examining him as well. Without even a proper explanation for why he had gone out of his way to cheer Albus up or even to say good bye, Scorpius left. The snake dissolved away a few moments later when Scorpius got too far and the magic weakened. It was then that Albus realized that Scorpius was not the enemy that his uncle Ron had claimed he should be. He was nice. Albus felt a little embarrassed. He had heard of _Serpensortia_, but had been useless in using it himself, but Scorpius had cast it with no problem. He was in awe at his housemate and, after a few minutes of deliberation, Albus had taken off after him.

Scorpius had gone to try out for the house's Quidditch team. There were a lot of first years wanting to play, most wanting to make their parents proud. When Albus' name was called up to take a broom, he had stammered shyly and said he was just there to watch and had gone and taken a seat by the benches. Scorpius had flashed him a grin when it was his turn to be put through the tests. Normally, the first years, too scared to voice what position they wanted to play for fear of angering upperclassmen who already held those positions, would just allow themselves to be given all the tests and placed whenever the captain wanted them. Scorpius was the only one to stand up tall and state, "I'm going to be your Seeker."

The older players had laughed at him, and Albus felt himself shrinking from the ridicule even when it wasn't aimed at him. But Scorpius never lost that smirk. His trial for Seeker had been specially made just so the other players could put a Malfoy in his place. They were the product of their parents and it seemed that Draco Malfoy had made as many enemies within his House as he had without.

And so, without much delay, Scorpius mounted his broom, facing off the Slytherin's current Seeker, a slender sixth year named Thomas Bulstrode. The Malfoys and the Bulstrode were distantly related, but there was no love between relatives. Even Albus tensed as the watched the two boys glare at each other. The team captain, Chaser Amelia Rosier stepped beside them, a small box in her hand. Everyone on the field was quiet. The tense standoff even attracted the attention of a few Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff second years returning from their Care of Magical Creatures lesson. Amelia opened the box and the Snitch darted up into the air.

It moved so quickly Albus only saw it once, briefly, before it was gone. The only way he had any idea of where it was going was by watching Thomas Bulstrode darting from side to side, sometimes giving chase to something invisible, other times just floating, looking. Scorpius, on the other hand, just hovered on his broom. Sometimes he would hover up to two meters off of the ground; other times, he would be as less as a few centimeters.

Albus felt embarrassed for Scorpius. Everyone was laughing at him. From the way that Thomas was dashing to and fro up in the air, it was obvious to Albus that he had the Snitch in sight. The Quidditch team and even the other first years were all sneering at Scorpius, mocking the young boy by saying that he should have learned to fly properly before declaring himself Seeker.

If their words stung him at all, Scorpius never let the hurt reach his face. Instead, he just moved his gaze steadily across the sky before moving lower. He stopped only when he was looking directly at Albus. The dark-haired boy could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stick up as he shivered under the unflinching gaze. He tried to move away when he suddenly realized that Scorpius was quickly floating his way. Had Scorpius seen the look on pity on Albus' face?

Feeling everyone's stunned gazes on them, Albus swallowed thickly when he was face to face with Scorpius. He was blushing, he was sure. "You are doing really well, Scorpius," He said, voice practically a whisper. Scorpius intimidated him, that much was obvious, but Albus was determined to support the boy who had shown him support not too long ago.

Scorpius looked Albus in the eyes at his words and Albus realized that up until that moment, Scorpius had been looking just _past _Albus, not _at _him. The smirk returned to Scorpius' face. "Hold still, Albus," he said as he reached out a hand.

Albus obediently stilled at Scorpius' command, but he practically jumped when, as Scorpius withdrew his hand, the gentle wings of the Golden Snitch brushed against his cheek. Thomas was half a kilometer in the air, still trying to figure out where the Snitch was, while there Scorpius sat, Snitch in hand, never having even broken a sweat. Everyone was so shocked by what they had seen that even when Amelia blew the whistle to signal the end of the trial and named Scorpius their new Seeker, no one cheered.

Thomas had been furious, and with good reason: how could he explain to his parents that he was bested by a little first year, and the son of the coward Draco Malfoy at that? Thomas quit the team right then and there. Amelia didn't seem to care as she patted Scorpius' shoulders, grinning like a Cheshire cat. She had been trying for years to best Gryffindor's Seeker and finally she had the player she needed to go head-to-head with that little prodigy, James Potter.

For his own part, Albus had remained awe-struck even when the first years boys were turning in for the night. All day, he kept looking over at Scorpius with wide eyes at every opportunity, saying how amazing Scorpius was at every chance, the compliments spilling out before he even could stop himself. Scorpius had eventually decided to put Albus out of his misery and tell the curious boy just how he had pulled off one of the most amazing Quidditch tricks Albus had ever seen. It was not that Scorpius had grown tired of the compliments. He just figured he would give Albus more to praise.

It was all a game of psychology, Scorpius explained as he started to change into his black silk pajamas. Thomas was graceless as a Seeker and the Golden Snitch as afraid of him. It would actively try to run away from him if it could do it. As the trial had not been an official game, the Snitch was technically allowed to go anywhere it wanted on the field. Seeing as Thomas was monopolizing on the sky, impatiently darting in every direction like a drunken sprite, Scorpius assumed the Snitch would be sticking a little closer to the ground. At that point, it was just a matter of figuring out where a frightened Snitch would run to. He had caught a flash of gold dart across the field and disappear behind Albus. All that was left was to approach the Snitch quietly and pluck it out of the air from right behind Albus' head.

Scorpius admitted that it had been a gamble that could have easily gone in Thomas' favor, but Scorpius had faith in his own abilities.

Albus found his respect for Scorpius grow, even as his own self-respect shrank. By the next day, everyone found out that Albus' Quidditch skills had been so useless that he hadn't even noticed a buzzing Snitch had been right behind his head. Somehow, his mother had found out, probably from James, and she had mentioned it in one of her Quidditch articles in the Daily Prophet. Most of the adults thought it was an adorable short-coming for a boy who always tried to appear so capable. Albus had just been mortified.

In retrospect, that was probably when his jealousy towards Scorpius began. Though, that seemed to be over now. He wasn't afraid of the man sitting across from him, idly flipping through a potions magazine, lithe fingers rapping against the table out of habit. Albus hated to admit it, but it was only now that he was starting to see himself as Scorpius' equal. He especially hated how nice it felt.

Without even bothering to look up from his magazine, Scorpius finally spoke, his voice sounding unusually loud to Albus. They had been sitting in complete silence for a lot longer than he had thought. "You know, you never did answer my question." Setting the magazine aside, he looked at Albus, giving him his full attention, "What is on your mind, Potter?"

"Scorpius, what's love?" Albus winced as soon as the words formed. He really had to stop saying things out of context. He spent so much time lost in his own head that he would just forget that people couldn't read his mind.

In this case, however, Albus could not help but feel pleased when he saw a light blush spread across Scorpius' cheek. Malfoy was normally so in command of his emotions that it was hard to get a rise out of him. It seemed the only way to do it was to take him by surprise. "Hm, awkward."

Albus reached up to rub the back of his head. Now it was his turn to blush. "Er, no, I meant...ah, I really am sorry. Sometimes I speak without really thinking things through."

"I noticed."

"Alright, but listen, I will tell you but you cannot tell anyone. Especially not anyone from Zenbazi," he muttered, eying Scorpius. Really, he doubted Scorpius was the type of person that would go around blurting things told in the strictest confidence, but Albus was sorted in Slytherin for a reason and was weary of others, especially other snakes.

"Potter, I just work there," Scorpius said with a shrug, picking up the magazine once more. "If I had friends there, do you think I would be here, fraternizing with the enemy?"

"I guess you are right..."Albus trailed off, going quiet for a few moments as he thought about the best way to explain his current conundrum. His cheeks just reddened at the memory. "Fine. So, last night I saw... two of my students... two of my _male _students... you know..."

"Shagging?" Scorpius offered as he leaned forward a bit, interested now.

"What?" Albus cried out. It was his turn to be taken by surprise now. "No! Kissing!"

"_God_, is that _all_?" Scorpius snorted out as he laid back in his chair, opening the magazine once more, declaring the matter no longer worthy of his full attention. "It is just a kiss, Potter. Is a little snogging too much for your delicate sensibilities?"

"I am not some prude, Scorpius. It was not the kissing that bothered me." That was mostly truth. It was not so much that the kiss bothered him as it was that it had caught him off guard. Were students always so forward and he had never noticed or was it just students at Peppertongue? Suddenly, Albus felt like his problem seemed blown out of proportion. He wished he had never brought it up, but knew if he tried to back out now, Scorpius would hound him until he had heard it all.

If there was something Scorpius hated, it was a story half told, even if it was a story he had no interest in. "One of the students, Lucas, he, well, I don't know how to explain it, really. Do you think there can be people who really don't understand love, Scorpius? He asked me to define it and I worry I may have failed him."

"And that's why you didn't sleep," Scorpius declared, beginning to understand what had happened. "You were trying to figure out how you can explain love to someone who has never felt it?"

"I know you think it's ridiculous, but yes. It is a very important matter." Suddenly he felt incredibly nervous. He knew what he was going to say was a popular sentiment but it was so rarely voiced that Albus wasn't sure how to say what he was thinking. "People who do not understand love can-can-"

"Can become the next Dark Lord." Scorpius concluded easily. He saw the shocked look on Albus' face before he continued with a grin, "What? It's obvious that's what you're thinking. That's what everyone's been thinking since your father killed Voldemort. No one says it out loud, but people have started taking child rearing _very _seriously. People have gotten it in their heads that if you shower a child with love, they will never do a single evil thing. It is stupid."

"It is not stupid, Scorpius," Albus chastised. What a thing to say. He would admit that since the last War, parents had taken a greater interest in the welfare in children, but it was for the greater good.

"It is. A child who is showered in love can grow up to be a bastard while a child who has only ever known contempt can choose to do good. We are not just the result of our parents' many choices and mistakes, Potter. At some point, we gain our own agency and make our own choices." Albus was taken aback by the look of sincerity on Scorpius' face. Too often, even in the heat of passion, Scorpius always grinned during an argument. It was all a game for him. But not this time, Albus noted. Scorpius was speaking from the heart and there was no sign of that impish grin on his face.

He was so taken in by Scorpius' words that Albus could not come up with any sort of argument. Even if he could, he did not want to. He wanted Scorpius to be right. He relaxed now, giving Scorpius a small wry smile, "I take it you have been giving this matter some thought lately?"

When he realized that Albus was not going to challenge him, Scorpius too relaxed and his easy smile returned. "What are you talking about, Potter? I've always been a champion of Free Will."

* * *

><p>When Albus had returned to Peppertongue, he set about writing some letters. He had been unable to properly explain love to Lucas and Scorpius had so skillfully avoided the topic that it was not until Albus was returning to the school that he realized that Scorpius never actually answered him. Since he failed to find the answers he wanted, he would write letters to people who might be more equipped to answer young Lucas. He was a little embarrassed having to ask for such help, but he kept telling himself that he was a teacher now. It was his responsibility to teach his students.<p>

Letters in hand, he went up to the Owlery and went over to his snowy owl Joanah, waking her from her nap. She nipped at his hands, never having liked being woken up so rudely. He just smoothed her feathers apologetically. He had just sent her on her way when he realized that someone else had walked into the Owlery.

"Hello Matthew," Albus said with a smile, chuckling when the tall young man jumped a little, his own tawny owl squawking at being jolted on his arm.

"Mr. Potter! I'm sorry; I didn't realize that you were here. This place is empty most of the time," he said, taking his owl, Peppo, over to the window as he attached a small note to his foot before letting him go. Albus looked around the Owlery now that is was just the two of them. There were only a handful of owls, most of them belonging to the school.

"There aren't many owls here at all, are there? Do the students use the telephones in Dragons Camp to phone their families?" he asked curiously.

"No, they just don't have anyone to contact, so none of them bothered getting owls," he said simply, "Anyway, I better go. Quidditch practice. You'll...be going won't you? To our game against Zenbazi?" he asked, for some reason seeming a little nervous.

Albus just smiled. Of course he was going to go. He wouldn't miss it for the world. "Oh, I don't know. I'm rather busy you know. Those first years have shameful penmanship. It takes me forever to correct their essays. Is our team any good this year?"

Matthew understood Albus' joke and he gave him a bright grin. "You bet, Mr. Potter! This year's team is the strongest we've ever been. We're all really pumped up, more than we've been in a while."

"Oh, is that so, Matthew? And might I ask what it is that has our athletes so eager to prove their might?" Albus was genuinely curious. He had gone out during the evenings to watch them practice many times and while the players loved the game, the thought of having to go against the other schools always gave them a look of dread.

"Uniforms."

"Huh?"

"Hasn't... Mr. Malfoy told you? I mean, we just assumed since Lucas said you two were friends he would have told you." When Albus looked confused, Matthew continued. "Mr. Malfoy got us brand new uniforms a few days ago. We normally have to play with loaner uniforms Madam Tanja has on hand for us, but this time, we've got our very own. Not only that, but Mr. Malfoy took one look at our brooms and told us to throw them away. Can you believe it? He got us all new, top of the line brooms."

"Wait, Malfoy did? Scorpius Malfoy?" he asked. That certainly didn't sound like Scorpius at all.

"Yeah. We thought it was weird too since he's a teacher at Zenbazi. When we said as much, he said that when we play under Peppertongue's name, we're a reflection on him. He told us he has faith in us, so he wants us to crush the Zenbazi team under our boots." Ah, now that sounded more like the Scorpius he knew. "You certainly have _odd _friends, Mr. Potter. But it's nice."

"I should think that new uniforms and equipment _would _be nice," Albus agreed, crossing his arms as he nodded his head.

"Oh, no, not that. I mean, yeah, those things are nice, too, but I meant the faith Mr. Malfoy has in us. He's got expectations for us. Everyone on the team is really excited to show him what we've got. We don't, well, want him regretting saving us. We've never won against Zenbazi before, but now, none of us have a single doubt that we're going to dominate them. Anyway, I better go, Mr. Potter," he said, turning to walk out of the Owlery. "And we are going to dominate those conceited assholes over at Zenbazi, so please don't miss it."

Albus just smiled. "I won't, Matthew. I promise."

* * *

><p>Albus could not help but feel a swell of pride as he sat back in his seat and watched as Peppertongue's first string Quidditch team step out onto the field. He had to admit, the players looked very formidable in their mostly forest green uniforms. Albus could almost pretend he was rooting for Slytherin's House team. From where he was sitting, Lucas could have easily passed for a young Scorpius Malfoy. He chuckled a little at the thought. Lucas was even waving to his screaming school mates in the same way that Scorpius had done right before a game.<p>

Each school had a practice Quidditch field on their campus grounds. However, because none of the schools had enough stadium seats to accompany two others schools plus almost every resident of Dragons Camp, years ago, the inter-school council had decided to just build a community Quidditch field outside of Dragons Camp. It was there that all official games were played. Since no one team had the home field advantage, it felt more like a game at Hogwarts. That feeling of familiarity only grew as Peppertongue's players were announced by name.

Peppertongue's students were normally quiet and withdrawn, but when it came to supporting one of their own, even the scared little first years were screaming out so loudly Albus almost thought they had used S_onorus _on themselves. They were all waving banners of Forest green and burgundy, similarly colored markings on their faces and arms as they screamed out in support. Because Peppertongue had no uniform, the students had gotten rather creative in dressing in the school colors, many of the students having charmed their hair green and burgundy just for the occasion. A part of Albus could not help but feel excited because it felt like being back at home for Christmas.

He was not one to brag, but when compared to the Zenbazi student population, decked out in black and silver, his side seemed a lot more fun.

In the crowd of black and silver, Albus was surprised how easy it was to spot Scorpius. He was the only teacher who looked bored. Albus noted that most of the other teachers sat apart from him. Scorpius did not talk much about his work during their meetings at the cafe, but Albus got the sense that Scorpius was not happy in Zenbazi. Rutherford and the students on the Quidditch team had invited him to sit with the rest of Peppertongue for the game, but Scorpius confessed he was obligated to turn down their offer. The only reason he was able to avoid open contempt at Zenbazi for his last minute rescue of Peppertongue was that Scorpius had made his generous donations under his father's name. As most of the wealthy families who sent their children to Zenbazi also donated heavily to keep schools like Peppertongue running, it was difficult for the school to blame Scorpius for doing the same. He had managed to not burn bridges by a technicality and did not want to anger his fellow teachers quite yet.

He made no effort to hide how much he would rather be on the Peppertongue's side of the field, however. Mrs. Avery had been so moved by Scorpius' selfless giving to her students that she had taken it upon herself to knit Scorpius one of the sweaters she gave only to her favorite pupils. Albus smiled when he recognized the familiar green and red sweater slightly visible under Scorpius' black robes. Mrs. Avery had knitted one for Albus as well and he wore it for the game with pride, thankful for it as October in that region had turned out to be rather chilly.

A part of him was honestly amazed to see just how energetic everyone was after how long they had been in their seats already. Quidditch for the three schools seemed to be an all-day event. Each school had three teams and all three would play, one after another. The morning saw the school's junior teams play. Most of the players on these teams were first or second year students. These were students who showed interest in learning Quidditch but needed a chance to practice in real games and not just scrimmages against friends. Both schools fiercely supported their youngest Quidditch players. With a few years of practice, these would be the players on the first-string team, so it was important to boost their confidences early.

During the afternoon, it was time for the schools second-string teams to play. These games were by far more exciting than the junior games if only because players of all types wound up on the teams. Some of the players had graduated from the junior teams and played their positions commendably. Other times, players had every reason to be on the first string team and were put on the second string team only because the position they played was already filled by an equally capable upperclassman. This meant that each school's captains had to create a second string team that had players with vastly varying stills. This often created strange final matches where the more skilled players would have to come up with unusual and rarely used techniques and strategies to compensate for weaker players.

Albus was also interested to learn that the junior and second-string games were governed by a time limit rather than ending the game when the Snitch was caught. Ms. Hope had explained to him that the three schools had agreed to set up the rule years ago when they quickly realized that the junior, and sometimes the second-string, games could last days as sometimes the Snitch was in a particularly foul mood and easily ran circles around inexperienced Seekers. After a junior game had lasted two days, the council at the time had called an emergency meeting and declared the new rule. The players had cheered because they had gotten tired after the first ten hours and after two days, some of the players were starting to experience terrible bouts of vertigo. Most of the time, the junior games ended with the two hour time limit. The second string games rarely needed to resort to their three hour limit, but sometimes it happened.

On that day, Peppertongue had won its junior game and Zenbazi had won the second-string game. They were one for one in terms of points towards the School Cup, so it all came down to the first string teams. These games were considered the reason people came to watch at all, so there was no time limit. These teams were considered strong enough to be a match for the Snitch. There was a high energy all through the stadium that grew only louder, if it were possible, with the pitch, both teams rising into the air.

Within a minute, Angie and Mona had suddenly rushed Zenbazi's keeper and using a feint had scored the first point of the game. Peppertongue's side of the field exploded with chants of "MOW 'EM DOWN, MONA!" and "ANGIE'S OUR ANGEL!" Albus was sure even he was screaming his support. His gaze temporarily darted over to Scorpius. Zenbazi's side was busy screaming out advice or disapproval, but Scorpius was sitting quietly, a grin on his face. Albus liked to think Scorpius was actually proud of Peppertongue's little rag-tag Quidditch team.

The next few points were for Zenbazi's side, but Maddie didn't give up. She was used to her team being down on points. She just had to make sure they stayed close enough to Zenbazi so when Lucas got the Snitch, they would pull ahead. Albus noted that while Zenbazi's chasers, three older boys, probably in their sixth or seventh years, were rather skilled, it was really their beaters that were the stars of the team.

The two girls, Sonya and Sydney Johnson, were a force to be reckoned with, Albus learned from Ms. Hope who sat next to him. They did not seem particularly interested in defending any of their teammates. If they wound up doing so, it was a secondary benefit. No, their first priority seemed to be knocking Lucas' small frame right out of the sky.

Whenever a Bludger got within their range, the girls knocked it directly at Lucas with nearly deadly accuracy. Ms. Hope had incredible respect for the two girls, even if they were from a different school. She said that they had both initially tried out as Seekers, their vision impeccable, able to catch sight of the Snitch even in an area crowded with other players.

Rather than make them Seekers, however, Zenbazi's captain had put the sisters through a very rigorous strength training regimen and last year he had unveiled his prized Beaters, having combined the strength needed to knock the Bludgers around with ease with their ability to pick out a Seeker no matter how fast he was moving. "If the Keeper, Seeker and Chasers were as good as they were, Zenbazi would be unstoppable," Hope said, sighing thankfully when Matthew and Logan jumped in front of Lucas at the last moment to knock the two Bludgers out of the way.

Albus wasn't even playing, but even he was a little intimidated by the two girls as they flew past their spectator box, sweat running down their dark skin, grins on their faces. He suddenly thanked that it seemed the rest of the players on Zenbazi's team were only slightly above average.

For the next hour, the game continued as if it were really two games: the one between the keepers and chasers and the one between Lucas and Zenbazi's beaters. The points quickly tallied up as the chasers realized that they had nothing to do fear from the Bludgers. The Johnson sisters sought the Bludgers out and aimed them only at Lucas. Peppertongue's beaters on the other hand, Matthew and Logan, stayed on Lucas like bodyguards, but the Bludgers were coming so quickly that all they could hope to do was knock them in the opposite direction to give Lucas some time to find the Snitch.

And suddenly, Lucas dove: he had spotted the Snitch! It took Matthew a few moments to realize that Lucas was no longer behind him. That was just the opening in Peppertongue's defense that the Johnson sisters had been craving. Within a moment, they had found their Bludgers and sent them ricocheting towards Lucas' diving form from opposite directions.

When Albus would think about that moment later, he would realize that it had all happened within a second. But while it was happening, everything seemed to move in slow motion. Albus wasn't even sure if he was breathing any longer.

Lucas had his eyes trained on something in front of him as he dove. Just as he reached an arm out, the two Bludgers hit him at once with such opposing force that he was sent spinning off of his broom like a rag doll. He dropped the last few meters down to the ground, his body bouncing several times before it skidded to a stop. Lucas was already lying face down on the ground, one arm sticking out in an unnatural angle, before Matthew even realized what had happened. Things finally started to return to normal speed as Matthew screamed out for Lucas as he dove down, jumping off of his broom and running to the fallen Seeker, the medi-witches rushing towards them.

The whole arena was deathly silent.

Albus honestly thought that Lucas was dead.

Albus had been hit with a single Bludger when he was a child and that had been just a Bludger moving randomly and only one. The impact had knocked the wind right out of him and had broken three of his ribs. He certainly wished he had been dead. Lucas had gotten two Bludgers at the same time from both sides and he had been knocked right off his broom. If it had happened to Albus, it would have shattered every bone in his body and he would have been dead long before he hit the ground.

Before Matthew or the medi-witches reached his body, Lucas suddenly rolled onto his back with a lurch. Albus' stomach turned when he saw the state Lucas was in. His nose was clearly broken and he was missing at least two teeth. There was a horrible gash on the side of his head that was bleeding quite profusely. One arm lay under him, broken in several places as was his right leg. Despite all that, Lucas suddenly gave a wide, bloody grin. With a heave, he held up his good arm. When he opened up his fist, the small Snitch unfurled its wings and rose a few inches from his open hand.

The arena exploded with cheers now as Peppertongue was declared the winner. Even some of the Zenbazi spectators were screaming out.

Even if Lucas was from the other school, he had put on one hell of a show and they were glad he had not died.

With the adrenaline running out of his system, Lucas finally realized the incredible pain he was in. His arm dropped as he lost the energy to hold it up, and he screamed as the medi-witches tried to move him. Finally resorting to charming his body, lifting it from the field, they carried him to the medical tent. Matthew followed close behind, fidgeting like a mother hen. The rest of the team, knowing that Lucas would not want a room full of spectators while he probably cried from the pain, instead went over to their school mates to be received as heroes.

In over eighty years, Peppertongue had never won against either school when it came to Quidditch and it was prepared to receive its athletes like the victors they were. The Dragons Camp city council even went so far as to change the decorations around the city's Quidditch field, the banners now proudly displaying the school's dragon mascot, the Welsh Green.

Most of the spectators stayed at the Quidditch field for nearly half an hour, recounting the amazing game they had just watched before they made their way into Dragons Camp. It was all a part of a local tradition, Albus learned. After every game, the spectators would descend on the town's restaurants and shops and would celebrate an amazing day's games with lots of food and festivities. It was a way of having both sides mix with no hard feelings, at least in theory.

Albus excused himself from his group of Huerta, Harwood, and Rutherford, promising to meet with them later, at Collin's pub. He just wanted to make sure that Lucas was feeling alright or else he would not be able to enjoy himself. They allowed him to go without too much complaint, but made him promise to not stay away too long. It was his first post-game party and all the teachers had agreed to get him ridiculously drunk as a sort of official welcome to the school. Albus chuckled as he waved them goodbye before heading over to the medical tent.

The medi-witches were standing outside of the tent, beginning to pack up their supplies. They let him know that Lucas was doing fine, if he wanted to go see him. They would be taking him to Peppertongue in a few minutes to rest, but he could check up on him before then.

Albus thanked them as he slipped inside, heading towards the last bed in the rather spacious tent. There had been a lot of injuries during the second-string game that day, so he was sure most of the beds had seen use. Albus was about to pull the curtain away for the only bed currently in use was being used by Lucas, when he heard hushed voices coming from within.

"How could you do something so reckless, Lucas? You could have been killed." It was Matthew and he sounded understandably upset.

"But I _didn't _die. It's Quidditch. People get hurt. Stop babying me." That was definitely Lucas. His words were stiff, probably from a still-healing jaw, but Albus could practically hear the defiance in his voice.

He could hear Matthew's exasperated sigh followed by the light squeak from the mattress as Matthew sat down beside Lucas. "I'm not babying you. I love you. Do you have any idea how I felt when you were just...lying there? I thought you died." Matthew's voice wavered as he spoke.

Lucas was quiet for a while, only his soft breathing filling the otherwise quiet medical tent. "You love me, and when I got hurt, you got...hurt too? Right?"

"Are you angry?"

There was silence. "No. Not really. But Matthew, I don't know how to return your feelings. I don't get it at all." Albus' heart ached a little for Matthew. Being rejected could not feel great, especially after such an amazing game. "Don't give me that face," Lucas muttered. Albus was hidden behind the thick curtains, but he could see in his mind the expression Matthew had probably been wearing. It was a pretty universal look.

"I don't get your feelings, but it doesn't mean I don't want to try. But, chances are, this...thing between us is going to end badly. For you. If you're alright with that, then we ca-" Lucas went quiet at that point suddenly. Albus leaned forward a little, wondering what had happened. When he heard a faint moan, his eyes went wide. He was about to say something to stop...whatever was going on behind the curtain, but before he could utter a single sound, he felt an arm wrap around his waist, keeping his arms pinned to his side, and a hand move to his mouth, keeping him quiet.

He did not even have a chance to struggle before he felt himself being pulled quickly, quietly out of the medical tent. As soon as they were outside, he was released and Albus spun around to face his attacker, his wand out at the ready, hex on the tip of his tongue.

Scorpius stepped away from him, hands up, wearing a grin. "Do you make it a habit to spy on your pupil's love life or is it just your rotten luck?"

"Scorpius! What are you doing sneaking up on me like that! You nearly gave me a heart attack!" Albus cried out accusatorially, reluctantly putting away his wand. He supposed he didn't have much of a reason to hex Scorpius. At least not at the moment.

Scorpius just laughed as he shook his head, reaching out to ruffle Albus' already naturally messy hair. "Potter, I will have you know that the world, despite what it might seem like, does not revolve around you. I went to go see how my favorite Seeker was doing after his show stopping performance. When I spotted you about to spoil his fun, I thought I would play kindly patron and escort you out of there."

"They are children!"

"They are teenagers," Scorpius corrected. Albus sighed. He was right. As usual. It was probably alright to leave them for the time being. With Lucas still healing, it was not as if they could do anything unsavory even if they wanted to. Albus paled. "It is probably better you do not think about your students shagging. You won't be able to ever look them in the eye again, if you do."

Albus punched Scorpius's arm at the comment before he turned to walk towards Dragons Camp, fully intending to take Rutherford up on his offer. Scorpius just snickered, rubbing his arm theatrically, before he fell into step beside Albus quite comfortably.

* * *

><p>"Did you see 'at, Scorpius? He was... amazing. Brilliant. If it were... if it were me, I'da been dead. I'm 'elling you what, I'da been deader than dead. Those girls...wow, those girls are scary. If they don' become perfess... professionals, there are no more good Quidditch team 'nymore." Albus could hear himself slurring, but for once he didn't care. He was happy. Genuinely happy. Also, a little nauseous, but, still, mostly genuinely happy.<p>

"God, Potter. What a useless drunk," Scorpius declared as he wrapped his arms around the flailing man beside him as they walked him up the steps into Peppertongue's main hall.

After the incident in the medical tent, Albus had met with the rest of the Peppertongue faculty at Collin's pub. They had ordered a round of drinks as soon as he arrived. They even insisted that Scorpius join them. For whatever reason, Albus, after just a single shot of what he said was light ale, demanded that Scorpius enter a drinking competition with him. He said he needed to regain his honor. Scorpius had no idea what he was talking about, but he loved any excuse to win against a Potter, even a push over Potter like Albus. It was always more fun when he went up against someone who could defend himself, like James, but he hoped that inebriation would give Albus the claws he would need to pose a challenge.

For several rounds, Albus had held his own against Scorpius. Albus struck him as a lightweight, but the way he was tossing back shot after shot of fire whiskey had earned Scorpius' respect. Scorpius was still going to drink little Albus Severus Potter under the table, but that did not mean he didn't respect him.

Suddenly, Albus stopped drinking and lifted up his shot glass, squinting a bit as he looked at the liquid. "Y'know," he slurred, "'M starting to think this ale has gone all funny..." he said before almost falling out of his chair. Huerta reached out at the last moment to hold onto his colleague as the table erupted with laughter.

Albus had apparently ordered just an ale and Rutherford had secretly swapped their drinks. Albus had been so busy trying to beat Scorpius at their little drinking game that he had not even realized what it was he was drinking whiskey until several shots later. For nearly half an hour, Albus was the group's entertainment. Drunk, he was much funnier than he was normally.

He recounted things that happened in his class, like when a group of second years hadn't listened to him and got attacked by pixies. He had to save them, but one "pixie-bastard" had thought it would be funny and it had hidden in Albus' hair for almost four hours. Scorpius said that's what he deserved for having such messy hair and instead of getting defensive; Albus just laughed and said it was his Potter genes.

Eventually, practically mid-story, Albus suddenly slumped against Scorpius, nearly falling off of his own bar stool. Whatever story he had been telling was lost both on him and the other teachers. Albus muttered something softly before his eyes began to close. Scorpius figured that it was a good time to call it a night. Huerta had started to get up, intending to take Albus back to the school, but Scorpius insisted he stay with the other professors. Scorpius had wanted to make sure that Lucas had gotten back to school safely anyway, so he would go put Albus to bed as well. Saying their good nights, he wrapped an arm around Albus as he helped the staggering defense against the dark arts professor back to his school.

At some point, Albus had woke up and had gotten his second wind, suddenly wide awake. It was not a permanent state of mind, however, and Albus drifted between periods of lucidity and drunken rambling. If it were anyone else, Scorpius would be annoyed, but because it was Albus, he could not help but see it as potential black mail material.

Back at school, even though Albus was a Slytherin just like the rest of them, he always had to go set himself apart from them. When the older boys would sneak in drinks from Hogsmeade, Albus had to make a big show of abstaining. Scorpius thought Albus was just putting on airs, but now he realized why Albus never played drinking games. He knew full well that if the older Slytherins could get a hold of a drunken Potter, they probably would have made him stagger through the halls, completely naked. Then again, maybe they would not have. Most of the Slytherins had actually been quite fond of Albus. If anyone would have been banished from the dungeons, _au naturale_, it would have been Scorpius.

Scorpius shook his head lightly to clear it. He hated thinking of Hogwarts.

"Hey, 'his is th' place," Albus suddenly blurted when they started walking down the hallway towards his quarters. Scorpius looked at the map on the wall. There was nothing out of the ordinary marked on the map. Scorpius had no idea what Albus was talking about. Before he could say anything, Albus suddenly spun around and grabbed Scorpius by the shoulders and pushed him against the wall. Now Scorpius really had no idea what had gotten into Albus Potter. The man was several inches shorter than Scorpius and much less muscular. He was sure Albus worked out when he needed to in order to teach his subject, but Albus Potter was more of the cerebral sort.

"Potter, what exactly are you playing at?" Scorpius finally asked, arching an eye brow as he looked down at Albus, the dim lights that were lighting the halls starting to slightly flicker.

Albus suddenly pressed even closer against Scorpius. Leaning up, having to go on his tip toes, Albus whispered softly against Scorpius' ear. "I love you. I always have." Leaning in close, he pressed his lips against Scorpius' neck, just under his ear. Scorpius was suddenly finding it difficult to breath. He really should not have had so much to drink. He was actually enjoying the attention.

"I-thank you, but-"

"Is that all? "Albus continued. For someone who had been slurring and stumbling over all his words not too long ago, he was rather articulate now. Scorpius opened his mouth to say something, anything, but was shocked into silence when he felt Albus' soft lips against his own. Scorpius could taste the whiskey on Albus' lips. Before he could stop himself, Scorpius wrapped an arm around Albus with one hand before moving the other up, his fingers tangling in Albus' messy black hair. The move had been enough to cause Albus to moan softly against Scorpius' lips.

All week, Scorpius had had to resist the urge to reach out to touch Albus's perpetually messy hair. It stuck out in all directions, but it looked soft. He had fought the urge for days, but he had gotten numerous opportunities to touch it in the last few hours alone. It _was _as soft as he thought it was. And, even better, as they were both supposedly drunk, he could always blame _whatever _it was they were doing on the whiskey competition earlier.

Pressing his lips firmly against Albus's he pushed his lips apart. Albus murmured in confusion. As soon as Albus felt Scorpius' tongue on his, he suddenly pulled his head back, unable to stop his laughter. He sounded as if someone had cast _Rictusempra _on him. Reaching out with a hand, he pushed it against Scorpius' face, fingers pushing up Scorpius' nose, as he continued to practically giggle. "Wait, wait, you're... doing it wrong."

"What? _Kissing_? Potter, I'm a master at it," he said, suddenly feeling insulted. Even if Albus was drunk, that was no reason to be rude.

"No, no, not the kissing. Wait, yes the kissing. You aren't doing what they did. They were right here, too, so you have to do what they did. Lucas doesn't kiss Matthew back. He doesn't kiss Matthew back so Matthew says...what does he say again, oh yes, he says 'Aren't you...going to say anything else? I said I love you'. You aren't very... very good at this. You have to follow what they did exactly or it doesn't help...me understand," he murmured, slumping forward against Scorpius.

For a moment, Scorpius stood there confused, Albus passed out in his arms, his body completely limp. Slowly, Scorpius began to piece together what Albus had meant. He remember about a week ago, Albus had said something about catching two of his students kissing and then one having asked him about love. Or something like that. It was a week ago and Scorpius was surprised he remembered anything so insignificant from so long ago. Even though he had succeeded in by-passing the subject entirely, he realized now that Albus had not let the subject go. He gathered Lucas and Matthew were probably the two students he had caught kissing and if what Albus had said had been true, they had locked lips right where they were standing.

Scorpius started to laugh. Pulling Albus up to get a better hold of him, he started walking down once more. He paused long enough to ask the map to take him to Albus' quarters.

He and Albus were probably a little deranged: Albus for having a mind filled with unrelated tangents and Scorpius for having the uncanny ability to make sense of the mess. In a way, it made perfect sense for someone like Albus to suddenly perform a reenactment in an attempt to make sense of a situation he did not understand. Unfortunately, that way appeared to be a mutual sort of madness.

And, true to form, Albus had pulled Scorpius into the middle of his madness without proper explanation as to what it was he was doing.

Scorpius felt a little pride, though. He was starting to understand the way Albus thought. Though, he thought to himself, if the day ever came where he could easily follow Albus's train of though, he would voluntarily admit himself to St. Mungo's because, obviously, all was not well.

When he finally got to Albus' quarters, he thanked the doors for opening on their own. Albus was relatively light, but he felt so bony that Scorpius felt like he needed to take extra care so that he did not hurt him. Taking him over to the bed, he laid Albus down.

"Ahem, ahem. Who are you, young man?" Scorpius looked around the room for a moment before his eyes landed on a painting of an old doctor.

"I am... nobody. Just a friend."

"In my opinion, a 'friend' is never a 'nobody'," the portrait not looked him up and down. "Oh, I think I know who you are now. Yes, yes, you are young Mr. Malfoy, aren't you? I suppose I ought to thank you for saving this place. It isn't much, but it is home."

Scorpius smiled a bit. He had never been thanked by a portrait before. "You are welcome. I am just here to put Albus to bed and then I will be gone," he said, starting to unbutton Albus' shirt. The doctor suddenly got up and left the painting of his office, granting them privacy. As Scorpius worked to take Albus' clothes off of him, the man's eyes started to flutter open.

Looking around groggily, Albus grumbled. "W...what's going on?"

Scorpius just chuckled as he smoothed Albus's hair, as futile as the gesture was. "It's just me Potter. Go to bed." When Albus gave him a smile and nodded obediently, doing as he was told, a Scorpius's heart fluttered for a moment before he willfully ignored it. Albus remained fast asleep as Scorpius took off his shirt and trousers before maneuvering his light body under the blankets, tucking him in.

Albus was such a deep sleeper when he was drunk, Scorpius could have done anything that he wanted to Albus. Scorpius grimaced immediately at the thought. He promised himself to never let Albus get so drunk again.

Drunk, Albus was even more defenseless than usual and Scorpius was not sure how that made him feel.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Albus woke up with a weak groan. His head felt like it had been used as target practice for the Johnson sisters. His hangover was certainly comparable to having iron Bludgers smashed against his face. Stumbling out of bed, grabbing the dresser for support, he felt a piece of paper under his hand.<p>

"Good morning, Albus," The Doctor said cheerfully. "I met your friend, Scorpius Malfoy last night. He is quite the honorable man. He put you right to bed." Albus just nodded. The Doctor must have really liked Scorpius. The man rarely looked so excited. Pouring himself a glass of water, Albus read over the short letter, written in Scorpius' graceful hand.

_ASP-_

_Master Boswell, the headmaster of Zenbazi is hosting a party on Halloween next week. You will attend. This is not up for discussion. Consider it one step towards repaying your debt to me. I even know what I want you to go as. Look in a mirror. I will see you for tea this afternoon._

_-S_

Glaring at the note blearily for a moment, Albus suddenly rushed over to the bathroom to see what Scorpius meant. The Doctor burst out into loud laughter as Albus did so.

"That _bastard_!" Albus actually cried out when he saw himself in the mirror. After writing the note, Scorpius apparently was of the mindset that Albus' ink well was in excess of ink, as he had taken it upon himself to draw on Albus' face while he slept, completely unaware. Scorpius had drawn whiskers on Albus' cheeks and even blackened the tip of his nose. Practically growling, he turned on the sink and started to do his best to scrub the ink off of his face.

From the bedroom, he could hear the Doctor still laughing. "Oh, I think you would make an excellent kitten, young Albus!" Some days, Albus was sure the Doctor was as loony as his patients.

**TBC**


	4. I Solemnly Swear

******Author's Note: [07/03/2012] ******This chapter has been edited. Some parts of it might have been changed. Thank you all so much for sticking with this story! If you find mistakes, feel free to tell me in a PM or in a review. Thank you and happy reading!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

"**I Solemnly Swear"**

* * *

><p><strong>October 27, 3031<strong>

The sixth year students were chatting with one another, trying to hide their nervousness. They were all crowded together, even though the classroom that they were using was easily large enough to allow for them to move apart. Albus, leaned against the window sill as he watched the students, could not blame them for their apprehension.

In the beginning of the term, Albus had informed all of his students that they would be having their lesson in Boggarts the week of Halloween. He figured that would give them ample opportunity to come up with strategies for facing their fears.

As it turned out, the Education Council had made confronting Boggarts a mandatory lesson for every year. Albus had not understood the point of repeating a lesson so often, especially considering the concept was not so difficult to grasp. Unable to determine the Council's motivations, he had asked Rutherford if it were really so necessary.

"The point of the lesson," Rutherford had explained to him while pouring sugar into his coffee, "is not really confronting Boggarts at all. There is a lot to be fearful of in this world, Albus, and fears change as one ages. This lesson is in place to give our students courage and to help them retain it as they grow older. If they happen to become masters of dispelling Boggarts in the process, well that certainly is an added benefit. "

Albus smiled a little at the memory. He had to admit it, when Rutherford explained the Boggart lesson that way, Albus could not help but see its benefit. The pupils before him were sixth years, they had already faced a Boggart at least five times, but they still looked nervous.

When the large oak doors opened, Rutherford walked into the room, an old grandfather clock floating behind him. The students moved away, giving Rutherford a wide breadth as he walked up to the front of the class and easily set the grandfather clock down. As soon as it touched ground, it started to buck for several moments before settling down. "I'm sorry it took so long to find this little guy!" Rutherford said as he wiped at the back of his neck. Bidding Albus and class goodbye, Rutherford left almost as soon as he had arrived.

The class remained quiet, eying the grandfather clock. Albus knew that part of the reason they were so worried was because they had already heard of what happened to Clarence White.

Earlier in the day, Albus had been giving a group of seventh years the Boggart lesson. Things had been going well, the seventh years having been well-versed in Boggarts by then, until a mousy seventh year by the name of Clarence White had stepped forward. Albus knew him to be an exceedingly nervous boy who jumped whenever someone so much as called out his name. He had been worried about letting Clarence near a Boggart, but Madison, also in the class, had assured him that despite Clarence's nature, he had always done well with the Boggart lesson. Albus looked unconvinced, but she told him that for the last six years, Clarence's Boggart had taken the shape of a werewolf. He was scared to death of them, but after six years, he had developed a way to deal with his fear just long enough to complete the lesson.

With Madison's assurance, Albus allowed Clarence to face the wardrobe that the Boggart had made its home for the last few years. Slowly, the wardrobe door began to open and the Boggart, having assumed its shape, stepped forward. Clarence was expecting a werewolf. Albus was expecting a werewolf. Every single student was expecting a werewolf. So, when a large, hellish Thestral stepped out, the whole room suddenly smelling of death, everyone was surprised.

The students, many of them knowing exactly what it was they were witnessing, jumped back. Those lucky enough to have never seen a Thestral screamed, trying to scurry as far away as they could. Albus had read about Thestrals and had seen pictures, but he counted himself lucky enough to not yet be able to see them first-hand. Clarence, on the other hand, had been anything but lucky.

With a terrified screech, he had lifted his wand, but when it came to actually casting his spell, he had panicked. He forgot completely that the creature in front of him was a Boggart. Squeezing his eyes closed as tightly as he could, he cried out the first spell that came to mind. Albus was impressed that Clarence, despite his fear could manage to transfigure a rather large wardrobe into a formidable pile of shrimp, but decided in retrospect that that was the worst thing Clarence could have done in that situation.

The Boggart, realizing its home had been destroyed, reared up on Clarence with a loud scream. That had been enough to cause Clarence's eyes to roll back before he collapsed to the ground. The Boggart, unable to retain its Thestral shape any longer, dissolved into a mass of smoke and plasma before it darted out of the room, looking for a new home.

Albus sent word to Rutherford as to what happened, and Rutherford assured him he would find the Boggart in time for his sixth year lesson later that day. After dismissing the rest of the students, Albus had Clarence stay behind. He told him that he could redo his Boggart lesson the next day with the second years.

A failed lesson seemed to be the farthest thing from the boy's mind, however, as he collapsed into a sobbing mess, hardly able to speak.

**STOPPED HERE**

Albus froze as he watched Clarence draw his knees to his chest. What could a teacher do after something like _that? _All Albus knew was what his father would do. Sitting down beside Clarence, he gently patted his back and waited until the young man could gather the strength and composure to speak.

"I was-was in an accident during the summer," Clarence began, the color draining from his face as he recounted the story.

He had been driving to the beach with his older brother and some friends. They had all graduated and were teasing him, trying to get him to do magic. It was fond teasing and Clarence didn't mind. It had been in the middle of their happiness that a large truck had slammed into them. Clarence had been knocked out from the impact of his head smashing into the car window.

When he came to, the smell of burning fuel and something else lingered in the air, filling his nostrils. He was the first person in the car to wake up and he called out for his brother weakly. He remembered breathing a sigh of relief when he heard a groan in reply. In the distance, he could hear sirens. Reaching out, he grabbed a hold of the door handle. It had been difficult to open, the door only giving way after Clarence kicked at it. The impact sent a sharp pain through his body, but he had needed to get out of that crowded car.

Unable to hold himself up, Clarence had tumbled out of the car, thankful that after being tossed, it had managed to land back on its tires. Collapsing onto the wet asphalt, he panted for breath as he looked around him. It was difficult to breathe as smoke filled the air. There were so many cars and trucks, many on their side, others having been thrown completely off the road, into the river. Clarence was thankful to see others were staggering slowly away from their crushed cars.

Bringing his hand from his throbbing head, he winced when he saw blood-blood but no obvious wound. It was not his blood. His heart dropped into his belly as he slowly moved his focus forward. It was a school bus, flipped onto its roof, crushed inward like a can under a heavy boot. There was no movement from within, only small bodies pressed against the cracked windows and a trails of blood seeping out of the metal wreckage.

In shock, Clarence could not look away as the steady streams crawled over asphalt and gravel, touching his finger tips and slicking his palm. It pressed against his jeans and soaked into the fibers.

The children were so still they could have been sleeping.

It was when the paramedics had pulled him away from the scene that Clarence had seen them. In the Hellish vision of crushed cars and pulverized corpses, there were Thestrals, coming out from the surrounding forests.

"Those... things they were every where," he wept, fingers digging into his knees.

"Thestrals... are what they're called. They are relatively harmless, you know. They did not cause the accident, Clarence. You do not need to fear them," Albus added softly.

"I am not afraid of them. Not...really," he whimpered, rubbing at his nose. "I am afraid of how little I know. How little I can do." Clarence looks at Albus now, a hollow look in his gaze. "What good is magic, any of this, if I can't even use it to save people I love?"

"Clarence?"

"My brother survived but had his left leg amputated. Our friends," he trailed off, voice wavering as his eyes filled with tears once more, "they died. They just died. I could have saved them. I could have. I should have been able to. If only I were a year older, I could have used my magic to...to do something," he cried out, frustration breaking through his agony.

Clarence had then broken down into inconsolable crying and Albus had escorted him to see Huerta. Albus had done everything he could. Clarence needed help he could not give him. Clarence needed to sleep and it was obvious that he was not getting any, not from the looks of him. Albus also suggested that Clarence take a few weeks off of school and spend time with his family. Rather than argue, Clarence agreed before lying down in one of the beds in the infirmary. Running away from his fears had not proven helpful. Perhaps his family held the key to the remedy Clarence so desperate needed.

For the rest of the day, Albus could hardly find the energy to smile. He had not been there with Clarence when the accident had happened, but his story had affected him. The one saving grace was that Clarence had a loving family that could support him in his time of need. But, what about the others?

Looking over the nervous sixth years, Albus steeled himself, his wand in hand. He was not about to let another one of his students feel so alone when facing their fear. Seeing their teacher with wand at the ready, the students seemed to relax. If they were unable to ward off the Boggart, Mr. Potter would be there to save them.

When Rutherford left, Albus walked in front of his students. "I suppose as you are all sixth years, there isn't much use in me re-explaining how to handle Boggarts. Then again, considering all of the partying you all did after the Quidditch game, maybe we should invest some time in re-education." The students laughed at that. The Quidditch game had only been a few days ago and some of the students were still recovering from the celebration. Albus was glad to see his students relaxing. That was a good sign.

There were six people in the class for that particular lesson. Normally, Albus had to wrangle classes of over thirty-five, but for the Boggart lesson, because it was so short and relatively hands-on, each class was sub-divided to provide each student with ample time in facing the Boggart. Glancing over his students, Albus doubted that he would have a repeat of earlier with this group.

There was Matthew and Logan, who were always prepared for every lesson Albus had taught that term. They were more studious than Lucas, who seemed to pass every lesson by the edge of his teeth. Dennis Copeland was the most talkative student in Albus' classes, and Albus was quite fond of his optimistic nature. He doubted Dennis would have any trouble with the Boggart at all. Raye Cooper stood off by herself and watched Albus intently. She was not a shy person, she was just very judicial when it came to deciding who was worthy of her attention. Albus had been happy to be one of the selected few, though he had been equally shocked that a girl who dressed in colorful skirts and outlandish earrings could have such a morbid sense of humor.

The last two students were a pair of fraternal twins: Sasha and Nova Kandinski. Sasha was a quiet boy, hiding his face under soft wisps of dirty blond hair. He did not speak unless spoken to, though his face would light up whenever he was able to speak about academic matters about which he felt passionate. His sister, on the other hand, was much more vocal and openly despised Albus, though he could not remember doing anything to earn her ire. He did not like to think that his first batch of students could hate him, but Scorpius had simply reminded him that no matter how kind and understanding he was, there would always be a student in every group who would not respond well. All Albus could hope to be was universally respected as a master of his craft, even by students who did not personally like him. Albus tried to keep that in mind as he went over the proper way to handle Boggarts, Nova Kandinski's blue eyes burrowing holes into him.

When Albus had finished reminding the students how to properly cast _Riddikulus_, he took volunteers. Unsurprisingly, Dennis was the first one to raise his hand. He was grinning widely as he stood in front of the rocking grandfather clock. His legs were slightly bent at the knees, almost as if he were ready to engage the Boggart in a fist fight. With a flick of Albus' wand, the clock opened up and a large, disgusting troll stepped out, grunting and snarling at Dennis. The boy gulped lightly and moved his wand from his left hand to his right. He took a few steps back when the troll suddenly ran at him before he steadied himself. With a firm stead forward, he cried out _"Riddikulus," _and the troll was sent back, spinning. When it stopped, it was wearing a horrendous flower print dress, with makeup caked onto its face. "Dennis! It's been so long since I saw you! You really should come and visit more often for tea!" The troll said, having the voice of a middle-aged woman. Dennis, and indeed most of the students, burst out into laughter. The Boggart quickly rushed back into the clock.

After seeing how easily Dennis was able to best his Boggart, Raye was eager to not be out done. Whispering softly to herself, her whole body began to calm as the Boggart stepped out. Albus was shocked. The class sniggered. The Boggart was a rabbit. Just a little rabbit. It even wagged it's tail, attempting to look as cute as possible. It did not stand a chance as Raye sent it scurrying back into its shelter.

It took Albus a moment to realize what had just happened, but when he had, he could not help but smirk. Oh, Raye was quite the clever girl, much more sneaky than he had given her credit for, that was for certain. While the other students had concentrated on bracing themselves to come face to face with their fears, Raye spent that time repeating a mantra to herself. In a matter of moments, she had managed to fully convince her mind that it feared rabbits. Cute little rabbits. Albus was not sure if that was cheating or ingenious. He decided to go with the later. Full marks for Ms. Raye Cooper.

After Raye, no one else wanted to volunteer, so Albus smiled over at Sasha. "Mr. Kandinski, would you like to try?" Albus asked. He was not about to force someone as shy as Sasha into facing a Boggart, but he hoped that Sasha would realize that Albus genuinely had faith in his ability to succeed. Before Sasha could even answer, Nova stepped in front of him, practically scowling at Albus.

"I'll go," She spat out as she went to standing before the clock. The Boggart burst out of the darkness like a shot. Albus could feel himself tense as he saw the creature that the Boggart had become: a Nelapsi. It stood taller than a man and was lean and muscular, its pale, naked body hunched over as it hissed. The Nelapsi had talons for hands and feet and its greasy black hair hung around it like a mane. It began to walk towards Nova. When it grinned, an expression filled with malice and wicked glee, it revealed needle-like fangs in its blood soaked mouth. Suddenly, it charged. Most of the students scattered from fear. Nova screamed out the right spell, but the Boggart had jumped right over her, the spell missing the vampire entirely.

It had not been after Nova at all. It was aiming for Sasha. With a scream, Sasha fell backwards, his arms coming up to protect himself as the Boggart-Nelapsi lunged at him. Albus was just about to put a stop to the exercise when Nova suddenly spun around on her heels and took aim right at the Boggart's back. This time, her spell hit home and the Boggart burst into flowers. Everyone in the room was quiet. None of them even knew what it was they had seen. Many of them suddenly had a new fear if the look on their faces was any indication.

Surprisingly, Sasha was the first to laugh, followed by Matthew and then the rest of the students. When Nova finally joined them, the flowers were swept up into the air by an unfelt breeze and returned to the clock. Seeing his sister take care of the Boggart, Sasha volunteered to go next. The creature that came forth resembled an old hag and was riding in a large mortar, her pestle in hand. Albus recognized her as Baba Yaga.

As she approached Sasha, she threatened to eat him and his sister. Sasha cowered for a moment before, with his head held high, he pointed his wand at her. A moment later, the old hag's mortar turned into an old ratty shoe, Baba Yaga pulling an old sock over her head like a blanket, embarrassed to be seen in such tattered clothes. With a howl, she quickly returned to the clock.

Logan was next to go, and Albus could not help but chuckle when he saw that his Boggart had turned out to be none other than Dr. Huerta, threatening to give him the biggest shot Albus had ever seen. When Logan's spell caused the Boggart-Huerta to suddenly wear a bright pink nurse's uniform, complete with fishnets over unshaven legs, Albus burst out into laughter even before Logan did. As the Boggart disappeared back into the clock, trying its best to tug down the hem of its short skirt, the whole class joined Logan. Even Nova was having a hard time maintaing her stoic composure. As Logan walked over to Matthew, he grinned. "Honestly, it was pretty funny...but I think now my biggest fear is Doc in a nurse's outfit," he confessed to Matthew who just slugged him in the arm for putting that image in all their heads. It was nearly five minutes before Albus could get the students settled down enough to move on to the last pupil.

Matthew was just wiping at his eyes, still chuckling a bit, as he stepped up to face the Boggart. He seemed rather confident. Albus was sure that he would do fine, so he opened the grandfather clock once more. For several moments, nothing came out of the grandfather clock. Matthew, much like all the other students, was confused, so he took a few careful steps towards the clock, his wand out and ready.

Soft, painful sobs began to slip out from the darkness within the grandfather clock.

Matthew began to walk backward now, his eyes wide in horror. Lucas, drenched in blood, one arm lying uselessly at his side, stumbled out of the clock. He was wearing a blood-soaked Quidditch uniform, but he looked much worse than he had after the game. "M...Matthew," Boggart-Lucas gasped out in a heart-breaking keen, "How could you...let him hurt me? I... I called...for you. Why did you pretend not to hear me?" Suddenly Lucas bent forward as he coughed heavily, blood splattering on the ground as he started to cry, his voice tight from pain.

Matthew wavered as he lifted up his wand. "_R... R-Riddikulus_," Matthew said, his voice almost a whisper. Nothing happened. Lucas collapsed to the ground, gasping out for breath, looking as if he were going to die. He kept weakly crying out Matthew's name, begging for the older boy to save him. The other students were shifting nervously. "_Riddikulus_!" Matthew shouted again, his voice pitched with desperation. Again, nothing happened.

Albus now understood why.

Even through Matthew was calling out the spell as confidently as he could manage; there was nothing behind those words. When faced with his greatest fear, Matthew was simply unable to think of anything remotely humorous. Albus could hardly blame him. If it had been Scorpius...he shook his head. He had to concentrate on the matter at hand. Scorpius was safe. Lucas was safe. They were all safe. It was just an exercise.

For a third time, Matthew cried out, "_Riddikulus_", and this time, the Boggart writhed and screeched, as if Matthew had cast the _Cruciatus _curse on him. An unearthly scream filled the room as Lucas' body arched so sharply that Albus was sure his spine would snap in two. Dropping his wand as if it burned to hold it, Matthew stepped back from the scene in horror. Albus was suddenly beside him, his wand raised. Having two people confront it confused the Boggart long enough for its form to slip. Albus took advantage of the moment and cast it back into the clock.

No one said a word as Matthew silently retrieved his wand. They had just witnessed Matthew fail a task first years were expected to complete, but they could hardly blame him. The Boggart's tortured screams had sent shivers down all of their spines. They doubted they could have done any better.

Albus was about to tell Matthew that he could return the next day and try the trial again when the large oak doors slowly opened. "Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Potter. The old man sent me here to make up the Boggart lesson." Everyone in the class turned to look at the person who spoke, most looking like they had seen a ghost. Lucas stood there, looking confused. "Er, is this a bad time?"

A few moments of tense silence passed before Albus cleared his throat. "No, no, Mr. Rutherford, it's completely alright. We just finished the last of the regular students, so you're just in time." Glancing over at Matthew, Albus gave him a weak smile, reaching out to place an understanding hand on his shoulder. Leaning in, he spoke softly. "It's alright, Matthew. Why don't you come back tomorrow and try again?" Matthew just nodded his head as he went over to Lucas. Despite what he was going through he gave Lucas a grin.

"So, you're finally out of bed, huh?"

Lucas smirked. "Of course. I even stayed in bed an extra day. Then Huerta told me to get my lazy ass out of his hospital wing," he snickered as he stepped forward. Seeing the clock, he cocked his head. "What the hell happened to the wardrobe?"

Logan just laughed a bit. "Well, see what happens when you stay in the infirmary wing too long, Lucas? You miss a lot of exciting stuff." Lucas turned his head to look at him, unamused, and promptly lifted up his good hand, sending a rather rude gesture Logan's way.

"Now, Lucas, are you sure you want to try the Boggart today?" Albus asked. Lucas was looking fairly well for someone who had been practically maimed during the Quidditch game not even a week ago, but he wanted to be sure. He knew that Quidditch players did not like complaining about their injuries, but he wanted to give Lucas a chance to change his mind in case he was not feeling well.

Lucas just shrugged as he waved a bandaged hand dismissively. "I'm fine, Mr. Potter. It's just a widdle, meany Boggart," he mocked, some of the students around him chuckling. They were used to that from Lucas. He tended to always mock things that might have scared him. If Lucas said he was ready, there was nothing he could say about it. Lifting his wand, the godfather clock opened up for the last time that lesson.

As with Matthew, nothing came out of the clock for a few moments. Rather than be worried, Lucas just grinned as he put a hand on his hip. "What? Is the little Boggart scared? Hey, come on out and play, you little-" Lucas trailed off as a man stepped out of the darkness of the large grandfather clock. "M... Mr. Kriedler?" Lucas choked out, taking a step back. His eyes were wide in horror. The room broke out into loud muttering as the other students began to back away from the man. Only Matthew stood his ground, his own horrified gaze matching Lucas'. The man was tall and well built. Albus supposed he could have been handsome at one point in time, except his face was contorted into a mad grin. He looked deranged, shaggy brown hair clinging to his face, dark bags under his eyes as his sharp gaze was focused on Lucas. The man wore traditional black robes. He was a teacher, or at least, had been.

_"You thought you could hide it from me, didn't you, Lucas? You thought I would never figure you out?"_ The man was trying to sound as sweet as possible, but his voice quivered the anger beneath too difficult to hide. _"I will never let you be like...Him. I will... I have to..." _the man slowly started laughing, but it looked like it pained him to do so. Lucas looked like he was going to be ill. The man's laughter grew louder and louder, his head tossed back, his expression becoming more and more animalistic. Albus grew worried, his grip on his own wand growing tighter. Something felt wrong.

All of a sudden, the man's laughter stopped, a somber expression falling over his expression as he looked at Lucas. He furrowed his eyes brows almost worriedly. _"I can't let you go on," _he said, taking a step towards Lucas, the young man moving back, _"I simply can't."_ the man suddenly pulled a wand out of his robes and pointed it at Lucas in one fluid action. "_Avada Ka-_" the man had started to scream out, but Lucas was faster.

"_Frangat Corpus!_" Lucas screamed out as he suddenly stepped forward, slashing his wand through the air. The man was knocked back by an incredible, invisible force. The Boggart lost its shape before it seemed to shatter like glass, a black inky mess splattering on the back wall. Albus watched in shock as Lucas killed the Boggart.

And Lucas was not done.

The Boggart was dead, but to him, the man who had just tried to throw a killing curse at him was still a threat. Everyone around him was a threat. Albus did not know where Lucas's mind was, but it was obvious Lucas was no longer there. Lucas looked like a cornered animal. "_Frangat Corpus! Frangat Omnia!_" Lucas roared out as loudly as he could as he cut through the air with his wand, desperately fighting off an unseen enemy. The invisible force smashed through the floor, the wall, the ceiling, everything in Lucas' way.

Albus had never heard of such spells, but their purpose was obvious: whatever the force slammed into seemed to turn as brittle as glass and shatter. Lucas was losing control as he threw the spell around, nearly hitting the other students. They screamed and ran from the classroom before Lucas had a chance to turn his murderous spell on them.

The whole scene had dissolved into chaos in less than a few seconds, but Albus was quick on his feet as he leaped forward. "_Expelliarmus_!" he shouted and Lucas' wand instantly shot out of the boy's hand. Lucas stood there for several long moments, dazed, his arm still out as if he were holding his wand. It was only when Matthew, covered in dust and rubble, ran over to him, pulling him into his arms, that Lucas finally collapsed. He was not crying. He was in shock, his whole body trembling.

Slowly, Lucas brought his hands up to his ears, pressing his palms against his ears tightly. He tried to block out all sound as he screwed his eyes shut, a grimace on his face. It was only now that the whole thing was over did Albus take a deep breath. He had not even realized he had been holding his breath.

Coughing a bit from all the dust in the air, he looked around. Whatever that spell was, it had damaged the classroom beyond recognition. One of the walls had almost completely been blown out, the room now having a rather panoramic view of the Quidditch field.

"I'm taking him to see Doc," Matthew said after a few moments, his voice strained. Albus just nodded. What else could he do? Lucas was in no state to explain anything to Albus. Even if he were, Albus had no idea how to approach the boy at the moment. The look on Lucas' face when he attacked the Boggart...it was a look of hatred Albus had never seen another human being wear.

It was only when he was alone in the ruins of his classroom did Albus, almost hazily, recalled Lucas' words from all those days ago.

_...hate you'd never understand..._

* * *

><p>"Damn it." Albus sighed as he walked into his quarters, flopping down onto the bed. Before the Doctor could ask him what was wrong, Albus grabbed a pillow and pulled it over his face. He had gathered from what Rutherford had told him earlier, before the start of the semester, the Boggart lesson would prove difficult, but there was only so much a teacher could reasonably be expected to handle.<p>

After Lucas's melt down, Albus had marched straight to Rutherford's office and demanded some sort of explanation. All he managed to wrangle out of the old man was that Mr. Kriedler was the old Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, the one that had held the post before him and that Albus was not to mention the spells Lucas had used to anyone. Rutherford assured him that he would personally take care of calming the other students.

It was then that Albus recalled what people in Dragons Camp had said to him weeks ago. They had hoped that he would turn out better than the last Defense Against the Dark arts teacher. Before Albus could even ask what had happened to the man, Rutherford had all but pushed him out of his office. With a nervous smile he had promised to explain everything in due time, but at the moment, he was busy. He had wished Albus a good day and that had been the end of that.

A light knocking at his door had roused Albus from his thoughts. Sighing, he walked over to the door and opened it. He smiled lightly when he saw Logan. The boy always seemed to have a smile on his face and Albus had to admit, it was infectious even when he was not in the mood. "What can I do for you, Logan?"

Logan held out a stack of letters for him. "Well, I was just sending my mom and dad some letter, right? And well, I spotted this...really irritated owl trying to destroy these letters. They're a little beaten up, but they're still readable I'm sure." When Albus took the letters, eying them curiously, Logan just smiled nervously, "At least, I think they're for you. They all say Albus on them and you're the only one with that name I know."

It finally dawned on Albus why he suddenly got a stack of letters. "Ah, thank you, Logan. Yes, they are for me. I was expecting them, actually. Thank you for getting them to me, they are rather important."

For a moment, the two stood there, the unspoken question handing in the air oppressively. Finally, Albus spoke up. "Logan, do you know how Lucas is doing?"

Darting his eyes down to the floor, he sighed, shifting. "He opened one of his wounds from flailing around so much. He hasn't spoken a word to anyone yet. Mr. Rutherford is with him now. "Logan attempted to look at Albus, but quickly returned his gaze to the floor, "The Doc says that he's physically fine. He can leave the infirmary whenever he feels up to it."

"Logan," Albus said softly, "Can you tell me what...that was all about? Mr. Rutherford refused to explain anything."

A pained expression came over his face as Logan looked up at Albus. "Please, Mr. Potter, don't make me say." Albus looked shocked byLogan's request. What on earth happened between Lucas and his old teacher?

Albus wanted to know, but not at the expense of hurting one of his students. Reaching out, he put a gentle hand on Logan's shoulder. "Do not worry; I will not make you tell me anything you do not wish to reveal. Thank you again for the letters, Logan."

Logan just nodded as he stepped back, away from Albus' door. He turned to walk away before muttering something quickly. "If you want to know more about what happened, ask Matthew. Not now, though. Later. Good bye, Mr. Potter." And with that, Albus was left alone once more. Alone, with a stack of letters.

Closing the door, he went over to his desk, leaning against it as he looked through the stack. There was one from his father, his uncle Ron, a thick envelope from his aunt Hermione, a small envelope from his brother and two pink ones, one from Rose and one from Lily. With a sigh, he set them down on the desk. He just did not have the energy to read them at the moment.

Walking back to his bed, he laid down, returning the pillow to its position over his head. He could not get Lucas' screaming voice out of his told him to just forget what he had seen. He had he would take care of it. The way he said it made Albus forget the sort of habitual nervousness thatRutherfordnormally exhibited.

* * *

><p><strong>October 31, 2031<strong>

Albus was already twenty-five years old, but in that moment he felt like he was a child once more with his mother needing to look him over and declare him fit to be seen. Scorpius was looking Albus over, occasionally nodding his head. Other times, he would reach out and adjust some part of Albus' outfit.

"Well, do I pass muster, _mother?" _Albus asked impatiently. This was getting ridiculous. Scorpius had demanded that Albus be ready by six in the evening, sharp, but it was already seven o'clock and Scorpius was still unsatisfied with what Albus had chosen to wear for the Halloween party he had been coerced into attending. Considering the hellish last couple of days he had had, Scorpius should have been glad that Albus was still prepared to go with him at all.

"Hardly. Who on earth taught you how to dress yourself? A house elf?" Scorpius sneered as he grabbed Albus' slender wrists and lead him over to his bed, sitting him down. Going over to the small attached bathroom, Scorpius seemed to be looking for something. "Potter, where is your brush?"

"Er...I think there is a comb in the drawer..." Albus muttered. As expected, Scorpius chuckled.

"Why am I not surprised? I did not think you owned a comb. And, what's this," he said, having found the comb, "It hardly looks used!"

"I use it," Albus defended reflexively.

"Oh yes, how often? It was hidden under... what is this, a book? Potter...you live in filth, you know that?" With a dramatic sigh, Scorpius walked out of the bathroom, setting a book on elementary spells on the desk before walking over to Albus.

Albus would have argued more, but almost as soon as Scorpius touched comb to hair, Albus lost the will to fight. Scorpius was saying something, but Albus was not paying attention. His eyes had slipped shut and he was enjoying the feel of the comb running through his hair.

The lack of protest from Albus was not lost on Scorpius. He had been saying something about how Albus could learn a thing or two from the Malfoy clan about how to present himself, but his words hushed when Albus' head had slumped forward, his forehead resting gently against the front of Scorpius' suit. Scorpius had been surprised that Albus could have been lulled to sleep by such a thing, but he just smiled faintly and returned to taming Albus' wild hair. Attempted to tame, in any case. When Scorpius had arrived to Albus' quarters an hour ago, Albus looked like he had not slept in days. Since he would be up for quite some time that night, Scorpius supposed a nap would not hurt.

Scorpius would never tell anyone, but he found the quiet moments with Albus to be... quite nice. With one hand, he combed Albus' hair back and with the other, he moved each stray lock into place. He could have done it with just the comb, he was sure, but he had wanted to touch Albus' hair. It was so messy and sloppy that Scorpius was sure it was full of knots. Instead, the comb had gone through his hair with relative ease and his hair felt soft to the touch.

Scorpius told himself that he had only taken an interest in Albus because he had always been curious about things that were unlike himself. His own hair was pale and obedient to any form of styling. His father and grandfather liked to keep their hair slicked back, but Scorpius was normally more of a fan of his hair looser. He had a habit of running his fingers through his hair anyway. Styling was unnecessary. He only liked playing with Albus's hair because it was so unruly. Just when one thought one had tamed it, it would stick out defiantly. It was a little like Albus himself.

Even back at school, whenever Scorpius thought that he had the youngest Potter sufficiently under his command, Albus would suddenly rear back and show his teeth, if only to prove a point. It felt like there were two Albus's in that messy head of his. Scorpius always found Albus fascinating, more so than his older brother. Albus seemed to be quiet and reserved, but Merlin help him if Albus got started on a topic he found interesting. One could not get him to stop. As a student, Scorpius had always had his eyes on Albus, even if Albus never knew. He preferred it that way. Scorpius liked the persona he exhibited at Hogwarts, even if he quite decidedly despised the school.

Softly, Scorpius took hold of a lock of Albus' hair, twirling it around one slender finger. He had done the same thing years ago, back when they were preparing for their O.W.L.S. They had been studying in the library and Albus had fallen asleep. Eventually, the rest of their group had gone off to dinner and left only Albus and Scorpius in the Slytherin commons. He had risked touching Albus' hair for the first time since they met and he had been surprised at how incredibly soft it was. He continued to play with it until the gentle touching had roused Albus from his nap groggily. He had snapped his hand back then and jumped to his feet. He remembered hissing, "We'll be late for dinner, Albus" before running out of the Dungeons at break-neck speed.

But now, Albus did not seem to make any move to wake up and ruin Scorpius's fun. Whenever Scorpius tried to touch his hair while Albus was awake, the shorter man would just tense and pull away, hating it when people played with his hair since it made him feel like a child. Except, of course, if they came in armed with comb with intent to use, it seemed. Scorpius would have to keep that in mind.

Reaching out to take a light hold of Albus' chin, he lifted his sleeping head back, admiring his work. After much work, and several charms later, Albus' hair looked quite presentable. It was lightly combed back and stayed where it was held obediently (that was what the charms were for). At least, for the most part. A single curl had refused to bow to Scorpius' will and it rested against Albus' forehead. No worries, Scorpius thought, the curl looked fine where it was.

Eyelids fluttering, Albus started to wake. Scorpius suddenly feeling like he was too close, moved away, going to check himself in the mirror in the bathroom. "Well, I guess I have done all I can do for now. You are presentable at least," Scorpius said, busying himself with his tie, making sure everything was in place. Of course it was. He was a Malfoy after all.

Albus just yawned as he stood up, walking to the bathroom, standing behind Scorpius. When he saw himself in the mirror, he looked surprised for a moment before he nodded his head approvingly. "You did a good job. Sorry about... falling asleep like that."

Scorpius turned to look at Albus, leaning slightly against the counter as he watched Albus fix the last of the wrinkles from his suit. "Tough week?"

"The worst," Albus confessed. "That actually reminds me... oh what was it...? _Frangat Corpus_ and _Frangat Omnia_. Do any of those spells sound familiar to you?" It was a long shot, even Albus knew it, but it was worth a try. He knew for a fact that Scorpius, despite his age, had already studied under several masters. Maybe in his travels he had heard of such a spell.

Albus could see Scorpius's jaw clenched for half a moment before he relaxed. Stroking his chin, Scorpius seemed deep in thought. "I can't say that I have. I could send a letter to some of my old masters, if you'd like. Maybe they've heard of them."

Albus nodded his head. "If you would not mind. It's driving me crazy. I have seen it work but..."

"But?" Scorpius asked, arching one brow.

"But whenever I tried mimicking the actions I had seen, I couldn't produce a thing. There has to be something to it that I am missing." Albus just sighed, letting his hands drop to his side. He had to stop fussing with his suit. He did not look as wealthy or as put together as Scorpius, but it would have to do.

Scorpius snorted a bit as he followed after Albus, slipping his cloak over his suit. "Have you thought to maybe _ask _the person who had cast it the first time you saw it?"

A sad expression washed over Albus' face and Scorpius wished he had never brought it up. "I wish I could, but he hasn't been talking to anyone. If I'm going to figure this out, I'm going to have to figure it out on my...er Scorpius?" Scorpius looked up from his spot, perched on Albus' desk, legs crossed as he looked through a satchel. "What...is that in your hand?"

Scorpius grinned as he put whatever it was in his hand on the top of his head. Saying a quick spell, the ears started to twitch. Scorpius Malfoy was wearing feline ears. Albus would have laughed except he saw that Scorpius was holding up a pair of dark furred ones now. Unless Scorpius intended to go to the party as a four eared cat, the ears currently in his hand were meant for Albus.

"There is no way I'm going to wear those Scorpius," He said, folding his arms across his chest defiantly.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice," Scorpius informed him with a cackle, approaching Albus.

* * *

><p>"Oh, come now," Scorpius said with a grin as he and Albus traversed the stone walk way up to the manor where the Halloween party was being held. "Potter, you have been silently glaring daggers into me and pouting like a petulant child since we left Peppertongue. It's Halloween. It's alright to let loose and play sometimes."<p>

"I am not a child anymore Scorpius," Albus practically hissed, his cat ears lying flat against his head, reflecting his mood. "I feel ridiculous. Where on earth did you get these wretched things?"

"Your uncle's shop, I'll have you know. I send Roxanne a letter requesting something for you to wear for this party," Albus paled and Scorpius continued, "She sent me a set as well. Your uncle said they are free of charge on the condition I get a picture of you wearing them."

Albus smiled darkly. "Then I'll make sure you never get the chance. Then you'll have to pay for them, in full," he said with a huff as he took his spot beside Scorpius as the other man knock on the door. Without saying another word, Scorpius suddenly reached under Albus' loose cloak and grabbed at his tail, squeezing it tightly. As the tail was charmed, Albus could feel it. Just as the door opened, Albus squealed in pain as he pulled away from Scorpius, hugging his puffed black tail to his chest.

The man who opened the door, a tall, thin man with a countless worry lines on his forehead, chuckled when Albus jumped. "Now, now, Professor Malfoy. I saw that. It's impolite to harass your guest. At least so early in the evening." Albus let go of his costume tail, letting it sway behind him, as he looked up at the man. He assumed this was the headmaster that Scorpius' had mentioned before, Mr. Boswell. He was wearing a cloak that looked that it was made entirely out of leaves, flowers and sticks. Looking down, Albus' eyes widened when he saw the man had hooves where his legs should have been. Sensing Albus' shock, the man chuckled a bit. "Sometimes it comes in handy being a _metamorphmagus_**."**

"Pan...right?" Albus said softly when he noticed the small horns on the man's head. Scorpius smiled, pleased.

"Yes, exactly! It's so nice to see a young man well versed in the classics! Come in, come in," Boswell insisted as he grabbed Albus' arm, practically pulling him inside. The manor was already packed with people as Albus looked around at all the extravagant costumes. Suddenly, he felt a little under dressed, his ears lying flat against his head. Scorpius just laughed as he took off his cloak and took Albus' as well, handing it to the waiting house elf.

"They really know how to celebrate Halloween here, don't they?" Scorpius said with a laugh. Albus just nodded his head weakly. Back at home, Halloween was always celebrated, but it was nothing extravagant. Albus's parents and relatives would dress up a little bit, but Halloween was mostly a time to catch up with friends and family. Costumes were mostly the domain of children.

At this party, however, there were no children and the costumes were fantastic. Albus felt like he was walking through a dream as he and Scorpius made their way through the throngs of guests. Scorpius was introducing him, but all Albus could do was nod or gasp out a soft 'hello' to not be impolite. There was a man who was dressed as a Ukrainian Ironbelly, his leathery dragon wings wrapping around him like a cloak with dangerous looking spines down his neck. His whole body was a silvery metallic gray and his eyes were a bright red. The man was talking to a woman dressed in red and yellow silk draped over her golden skin, her hair actual fire. Another woman soon joined them, dressed in blue and green, her long hair looked like streams of water. Albus could even see gold fish swimming in it.

"These costumes are amazing," Albus gasped out as he looked around, seeing dragons, trolls, werewolves, vampires and so much more. Scorpius just looked over at him as he snickered, reaching out to grab a hold of Albus' chin, closing his mouth. Albus flushed. He hadn't realized his mouth had been hanging open at all the sights.

"Scorpius! There you are, mate. I told you to be here at six o'clock, didn't I? It's already almost eight," Albus looked up at the man who approached them. His face paled. The man looked like he was nearly seven feet tall. He would reminded him a little of Professor Hagrid, but this man was clean shaven and was dressed in a strange red uniform. He was carrying around what looked to be a hose. Albus had never seen anything like him before.

Scorpius just smiled as he held out his hand and greeted the monstrous man. "Sorry about that, Patrick. Oh, and this is the man I was telling you about. This is Albus. He's teaching Defense over at Peppertongue." Scorpius now turned to look at Albus, "And this big lug is Patrick O'Connor. He teaches Defense at Zenbazi, so I guess that makes you two colleagues."

Feeling even smaller than he had before, Albus just held a hand out to the large man. "Ah... hello. I'm...Albus Potter. You can... you can just call me Albus. Or, Potter. Or anything, really." In his experience, men who looked like O'Connor got to do whatever they wanted anyway.

The man looked Albus up and down before he tossed his head back and laughed. "So you're little Albus Potter, eh? I've heard a lot about you from him," he said, motioning over at Scorpius who had slipped away to go get something to drink. "Is it true you're Harry Potter's son? That's pretty exciting." Albus just nodded weakly. He hoped that he wouldn't have to listen to how amazing his father was for the rest of the evening. "I see Scorpius actually got you to wear those silly things."

Albus looked surprised. "W...what? Oh, you mean the ears? I said they were silly, but I owed him one," that was a small lie, "so I just decided to play along."

Patrick nodding his head, reaching up to stroke his dark red beard as he looked Albus over. "Well, they definitely suit you. You should consider wearing them all year round!"

Feeling the fur on his tail bristled, Albus huffed. "I will do no such thing! I am a teacher; I'll have you know, Professor O'Connor."

The red-headed man just snickered as he reached out to ruffle Albus' hair causing Albus to suddenly calm. He would have to be sure to send his Uncle George an angry letter. This cat costume was far too effective." I might be a professor, Albus, but I'm not tonight. Tonight, you're a cat and I'm a fireman. So, should you get chased up a tree, I promise to come to your rescue."

Albus looked at him in confusion. He was not quite sure what a fireman was, and he had no idea what that has to do with a cat stuck in a tree. He always was fairly certain cats did not need to be rescued from trees. He had, after all, never seen a cat's corpse in a tree. "What's a fireman exactly? Your uniform looks a little familiar, but I can't quite remember where I've seen it before."

"You teach at a school made up almost entirely of Muggle-borns, and you don't know what a Fireman is?" O'Connor obviously didn't believe what he was hearing. A wide grin suddenly came over his face. "A fireman is someone who puts out fires, rescues Muggles in distress and even the occasional kitten stuck in a tree. Oh, no... Look. A fire," He said with a laugh as he pointed his prop hose towards the woman behind him whose hair was flicking flames. As O'Connor opened the nozzle of his charmed fire hose, Albus was shocked as water sprayed out. The woman squawked in shock as her hair disappeared into smoke, her outfit drenched. She glared at O'Connor but didn't seem too upset. Albus got the feeling that O'Connor was the type of man who did things like that often. Taking out her wand, the woman reignited herself, the flames covering her whole body until the water evaporated.

"You shouldn't have done that," Scorpius chastised as he returned, holding a cup of punch over to Albus as well. "You know Paula. She is going to get you back come Monday."

Albus slowly stopped paying attention to the conversation. The two of them started to talk about their students and Albus had quickly lost interest. He had only seen their students a handful of times when he made time to go to the joint Care of Magical Creatures lessons on Saturdays. A lot of what they were talking about went above his head. Excusing himself, he decided to take a look around the party.

Albus supposed that he should attempt to make acquaintances. One of his mentors back in England had told him that, as a teacher, it was important to make friends and learn from others in his field. Albus had told the man that he understood what he was trying to say, but other than Scorpius, Albus didn't really have many friends. Shoulders slumped, Albus walked outside the large balcony, overlooking the gardens.

It was a little sad to admit it, but now that he thought it over, Scorpius really was his only friend. Sure, he got along well enough with the other professors, but he didn't quite fit in with them. At least not well enough to consider any of them friends. He supposed it all came down to a matter of personality. He simply didn't know the other professors long enough to consider them friends. At least with Scorpius, he'd gone to school with him for seven years. Their beds had even been right next to each other the whole time he was in school.

Scorpius knew a lot about him and for that Albus considered him a friend. Was he really so shallow? With a sigh, he leaned against the balcony, sipping at his drink. He liked the idea of having Scorpius as his friend, but it didn't give him much hope. What sort of person only had a single friend?

"It's a nice night, isn't it?" Albus spun around to look at the person who had spoken. He had been on the balcony by himself and hadn't even heard anyone else walk out with him. The woman who walked towards him was incredibly beautiful. She wore a black dress that clung to her, and it had a high slit along the side. Albus caught sight of the lace of her stockings against her creamy white thighs as he looked away. He had never met a woman quite like her. She could have been part Veela. The woman just grinned when he saw Albus turn his head away so shyly. The woman was obviously aware of the effect that she had on men. In fact, she was counting on it. Reaching up, she took the masquerade mask off of her face before she walked over to Albus side, leaning forward against the balcony as she looked out on the garden, her pale blond hair getting swept slightly in the breeze. "You aren't much of a talker, are you? I like that. "

Albus realized then that he had been staring at the woman. He found it difficult to find words to say. She was beautiful, incredibly so, but something just did not seem right about her. Her smile never quite seemed to reach her eyes, as beautiful as they might have been. "The... night, it's good. I mean, yes, it is a nice night." Albus had never been good at making small talk. He turned to leave, but she grabbed onto his arm suddenly, hugging it. Albus looked away. Her dress was rather low cut. Briefly, he wondered what she was doing out there in the chilly night air.

Albus was feeling out of place. Scorpius had given him a crash course on how to be polite around the ultra-rich, but he had a feeling he was failing rather stupendously. Scorpius never mentioned that anyone at the party would be so forward. He also never warned Albus that anyone would be making such obvious passes at him.

"Oh come on, don't leave. I won't bite. Much, anyway," she said with a soft giggle. Her voice was melodious, but it just caused Albus' fur to bristle. He wanted to go back inside. "I hear you're the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher over at Peppertongue." Albus just nodded. "I'm happy that you're there. My...son says a lot of good things about you, you know," she murmured as she leaned closer.

Son? She was one of his students' mothers?

"Albus, there you are." Turning to look at the entrance, Albus breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Scorpius, his ears perking. Scorpius just smiled as he walked over to the two. Suddenly feeling as if he had been caught doing something bad, Albus gently, but firmly took a hold of the woman's arms as he pulled her away from him, taking a step back. "Madam Belrose, please forgive my companion's rude manners," Scorpius said, his voice almost a purr as he took the woman's hand, bowing as he kissed the back of it.

The woman just laughed as she cooed. "Oh, Mr. Malfoy, you certainly are as big a gentleman as your father, aren't you?" She said with a laugh, reaching out to stroke Scorpius' cheek as her hand dropped down his neck, resting on his chest. Albus could feel himself tense, but Scorpius was still smiling. It was almost the polite for-social-gatherings-only smile he had used during parties back at school, but this one was different. It felt more meaningful. It made Albus feel uneasy for some reason. "I suppose your friend just isn't...interested in me. Oh well, I suppose that's what makes the chase so exhilarating." Albus furrowed his brows. What was that supposed to mean? "You take care of that one, Mr. Malfoy. I don't think he belongs here on his own," the woman said softly, putting her mask back onto her face before she practically floated back into the manor, disappearing into the crowd.

Albus was not sure what to make of the woman. Before he could even thank Scorpius for saving him, Scorpius suddenly reared back on him. "Potter, don't you ever go near her again. Got that?" Scorpius' voice was dangerously low as he stepped towards Albus, the shorter man stumbling back until he was pressed up against the balcony. He had never seen Scorpius look so angry. And, fearful?

"I...Scorpius, I'm sorry. Honestly, I didn't do anything with her. If she's your...your girlfriend-" Scorpius grabbed a hold of Albus' shoulder, his grip tightening. It hurt.

Albus looked up at Scorpius, eyes wide. His heart was racing in his chest and it felt like his head was reeling. Scorpius had never looked at him like that. Albus could feel tears starting to sting in his eyes as Scorpius dug his fingers into his arms.

"You...you're hurting me, Scorpius," Albus choked out, willing his voice to stay steady. Don't start crying, do not cry, he repeated to himself. He was just startled by Scorpius's sudden change in attitude. He was worried for his friend, not scared of him.

Albus' words were like a slap and Scorpius suddenly pulled away. The angry look was gone. "I'm sorry, Albus." Scorpius had used his first name. Albus was unsure what to make of the situation. "She isn't my girlfriend. I would never get close to that monster, not if I could help it," he said, a dark expression washing over his face. "I don't want you getting near her because I'm scared for you."

"What? What could possibly scare you? Scorpius?" Albus asked weakly, nervously reaching out as he put a hand on Scorpius's arm. Suddenly, Scorpius grabbed a hold of him once more. Instead of pushing him against the balustrade, he pulled Albus close, holding him tightly. Albus' face went bright red. "W-w-what are you doing?"

Scorpius responded by just hugging him tighter. After a moment, he spoke against his neck. Albus shivered at the feel of Scorpius' lips against his neck. "People around her have a habit of turning up dead, Albus." Scorpius pulled away, looking down on Albus, wild desperation on his face, "Please, promise me you won't talk to her without me again. Promise me, Potter!"

There was almost complete silence now on the balcony. The music from the party was only barely seeping through the minor silencing charms, but Albus would not have heard it even if it had been blaring. The only thing he could hear was Scorpius's ragged breathing. Albus wanted to just laugh and let the tension between them wash away, but he could see that Scorpius was being serious. Albus had initially disliked the woman, but now that he saw the effect she had on Scorpius, he found himself hating her. He hated the influence she had on Scorpius. Sighing, he gave Scorpius a weak smile. "I doubt I will ever see that woman again after tonight, but if it makes you feel better Scorpius, I solemnly swear that I will stay away from her."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Scorpius seemed to slump forward, resting his forehead against Albus's. "Thank god." For several moments they stayed like that, Scorpius holding onto Albus' arms, their bodies practically pressed against one another. Albus was a little embarrassed that Scorpius had suddenly lost all sense of personal space, but he was thankful for the warmth. The night might have been nice, but it was cold. Albus let his eyes slip shut as he enjoyed the strange moment. He even settled against Scorpius's chest, his own arms still at his sides. Scorpius Malfoy was rarely vulnerable. It was an odd moment and Albus had no idea why his heart had suddenly began to pound so loudly he was sure that Scorpius could have heard it.

He was just about to put his arms around Scorpius, in a friendly embrace, when O'Connor walked out onto the balcony. "Oi, there you are Malf-oh! Oh, god, I am so sorry!" he suddenly cried out. Scorpius had turned to look at Patrick and the large man had notice his colleague's arms all over Albus. From the way he was reacting, it was obvious that he had assumed that Scorpius and Albus had been embracing. "I'll see you inside! No hurries!" And with that O'Connor darted back inside before Scorpius could explain himself.

"Damn it. Knowing him, he's probably telling everyone that he caught us snogging or something," Scorpius muttered as he rubbed his forehead. "I swear, that man can gossip as much as a teenage girl." Albus suddenly began to chuckle. "And what's so funny? If he spreads any rumors, it'll affect you as much as me!"

Albus just looked up at him with a wry smile before he stepped back towards the door. "Well, rather than fight the rumor, you should just say it was the fire whiskey. I don't know who it was, but someone definitely spiked that punch."

Scorpius looked at Albus in shock for a moment before he laughed, going to his side, throwing a friendly arm around Albus' shoulders. "Albus Severus Potter, do you mean to tell me that you've been drunk this whole time?"

Humming at that, Albus gave a small shrug as they walked back into the party. "I believe the proper term in this country is 'a little buzzed'. But the night is still young. After the victory party, what can I say," he flashed Scorpius a grin, "I've developed quite the taste for whiskey."

Albus' heart warmed when he heard Scorpius laugh. He had been so worried for his only friend. "Good god, I've helped to create a monster!" Scorpius declared as the two of them stepped into the party.

The rest of the evening passed without another incident. Albus was thankful that he did not so much as catch a glimpse of that Belrose woman again. He was able to relax and enjoy the rest of the party. O'Connor had indeed gone and told everyone that Zenbazi's frigid Potion's instructor actually had a soft spot for black cats. Rather than fight the accusations, Scorpius just declared that one kiss from Albus was all it took to make anyone love black cats.

For the next few hours, this one bold statement created a game amongst some of the party-goers. From time to time, someone, man or woman, would grab Albus, kiss him, and declare that they did, indeed, feel a stronger affinity towards darker-furred felines. Albus thought the whole situation was like last year's Christmas party over at his Uncle Ron's house when James released some charmed mistletoe.

Albus would have normally been uncomfortable by the attention, but after a half dozen glasses of whiskey-laced punch, Albus thought the whole game was hilarious, only half-heartedly swatting away his many pursuers. He could be embarrassed and mortified in the morning when he was painfully sober.

If Albus was playful and outgoing when he lost his inhibitions, Scorpius turned out to be incredibly possessive after hammering down straight shots of whiskey. He had been fine with the game that had developed for a while, but when O'Connor had gone in for a kiss, Scorpius suddenly leaped to his feet and pulled Albus away at the last moment, throwing him over his shoulder. Albus flailed as he laughed, but Scorpius had a tight hold of his legs. "Next person who tries to kiss him, I'll claw your eyes out!" The people around them just laughed and Scorpius grinned triumphantly. Albus was having such a good time that he completely forgot his earlier threat and gave Boswell a dazzling smile when the headmaster asked for a photograph of the group.

At some point through the party, Albus must have fallen asleep because he was suddenly awoken by Scorpius gently shaking his shoulders. Sitting up with a groan, he looked around in confusion. He was sleeping in one of the flower beds out in the garden. It was morning, the sun having been up for an hour already. Scorpius helped Albus to his feet and picked up Albus's cat ears and tail from the flower bed. The charm had faded hours ago and they had slipped off while he slept.

When they got inside, Boswell was by the front door, saying goodbye to the last of his guests. Albus was suddenly incredibly embarrassed as memories of the night flooded in from the evening before. He had started to apologize to Boswell for everything when the man held a hand up to stop him. "Now, now, Mr. Potter. There is no need to apologize. Zenbazi parties always tend to get a little crazy. Oh, and here you go, Scorpius," the man said, giving Scorpius an envelope. "Now, take care getting home you two and enjoy the remainder of your weekend! I hope to see you again soon, Mr. Potter. Good morning."

Albus and Scorpius both said good morning before they slipped out of the manor, beginning to walk to Dragons Camp. "I suppose," Scorpius started as he opened the envelope, "we could go get some breakfast? That was one hell of a party last night. Some coffee would do me good."

Albus nodded before he leaned his head close, trying to see what was in the envelope. His face went pale. The envelope was filled with pictures. Of him. He looked up at Scorpius accusingly now. Scorpius just snickered. "I told you. If I got your uncle some photos of you, the costumes are free."

"But...but those pictures are embarrassing!" Albus would not be able to face his uncle again if there were pictures of some of the things that had gone on the night before.

Scorpius seemed to sense this as he chuckled. "Don't worry. This one is for your uncle,' He said, pulling out a picture from the envelope. Albus relaxed. It was a group picture and they were all smiling at the camera. Best of all, it was not inappropriate in the least. "And this one is for you," Scorpius said as he handed Albus one of the photographs. Albus' jaw dropped.

"When was this taken?" It was a photograph of Scorpius picking Albus into his arms while O'Connor and several other party guests tried to grab at Albus, all of them wearing ridiculously over-the-top kissing faces, lips puckered. Albus's face burned as the Albus in the photo practically crawled all over Scorpius trying to get away from his fans. Albus jammed the photo in his pocket, looking around and hoping no one else had seen it.

"Come now, Potter, it was just a bit of fun. You should cherish that picture. You can show your grandchildren that no matter what anyone says, you weren't always just an old coot."

Albus turned to glare at Scorpius when he noticed that there was still a photo left in the envelope when Scorpius put the group photo back into it, tucking both into his breast pocket. "Hey, wait. Scorpius, what's the third picture?"

"That one is for me," he said cryptically. Albus narrowed his eyes as he looked at him. Something about the way he said it made him worry as to what it was. Knowing Scorpius, it was probably blackmail worthy.

"Don't say things with that tone of voice, Scorpius Malfoy. You sound like a cretin," Albus said with a huff, suddenly running off ahead before Scorpius could get his revenge.

"You get back here, Potter!" Scorpius called out as he chased Albus all the way to the cafe. When they arrived, both of them were panting heavily, thoroughly startling the poor waitress.

* * *

><p>That night, Scorpius spent a particularly long time in the bath. He had taken a relaxing nap earlier in the day, but when he woke up, his body felt stiff. He figured he was just getting older, but he hated thinking like that. Scorpius Malfoy was too young to be thinking like an old man.<p>

Putting his robe around him, he walked out into his bedroom. The teachers' quarters at Zenbazi were definitely a cut above those of Peppertongue. Scorpius' room was lavishly decorated and had a king sized four poster bed. Sitting down on the bed, Scorpius' eyes caught sight of the photograph he had placed on his dresser drawer. Thoughtfully, he picked it up.

He knew that Boswell only fancied himself a bit of a photographer, but Scorpius had to admit, the shot was lovely. At some point in the early morning, Boswell had taken a picture of Scorpius and Albus fast asleep together in the flower bed. Scorpius could not even remember what possessed them to go outside to begin with, but he was secretly glad they had. In the photograph, Scorpius was sleeping on his back with Albus curled up beside him, using Scorpius' arm as a pillow. Albus' ears and tail flicked contented in the photograph which made him smile. The sun had just been coming up in the photograph and it cast a gentle glow on them both. The scene was peaceful. He was glad he managed to keep it away from Albus. He just knew that Albus would have wanted to destroy it. Scorpius liked the photo, for many reasons, and would have hated to see anything happen to it.

Suddenly, he heard a light tapping on the window. Whatever happiness Scorpius felt from looking at the photograph disappeared when he turned around to see a menacing looking long-eared owl perched by his window, a familiar red envelope in its beak.

Scorpius was beginning to despise that color.

**TBC**


	5. Who Will Possess Your Heart?

******Author's Note: [07/03/2012] ******This chapter has been edited. Some parts of it might have been changed. Thank you all so much for sticking with this story! If you find mistakes, feel free to tell me in a PM or in a review. Thank you and happy reading!

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><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

"**Who Will Possess Your Heart?"**

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><p><strong>November 7, 2031<strong>

It had been nearly two weeks since Lucas killed the Boggart and destroyed part of the school's eastern wall, and Albus was surprised just how quickly things seemed to return to normal. As normal as Peppertongue had ever been, anyway. The wall had been fixed by the next morning and the classroom looked as pristine as the day its last tile was installed.

Even the students stopped talking about what had happened after a few days. It was not that they stopped caring; it was just that things did not stand still at Peppertongue. After a week, there was a new magical malfunction to talk about, explosions and accidents a daily occurrence at the school.

Lucas, however, remained holed up in the hospital wing. Strangely enough, he even had Huerta's blessing to stay in bed as long as he needed. Huerta had said Lucas was physically well enough to leave whenever he wanted, but he did not push Lucas out, which was strange for the normally cantankerous doctor. Lucas still had not spoken a word to anyone. He would eat and do his school work obediently, but then would curl up, pulling the blanket over his head. Matthew and Logan visited him every single day, but nothing they said seemed to reach Lucas. Albus hated seeing one of his students like that, but he had no idea what he could do to help.

Rutherford had promised him an explanation, but after a few days, Albus had lost his courage to keep asking and Rutherford seemed perfectly content to just ignore the whole incident. None of the other teachers jumped at the chance to explain things either. They were normally very chatty, so their selective silence was worrisome. It felt like there was an unspoken rule in place: discussing what had happened between Lucas and Kriedler was forbidden.

Albus had been so busy nervously skirting around the whole affair that it was nearly two weeks before he stumbled upon the stack of envelopes he had put in the drawer of his desk. Having some free time before he was to teach his class of second years about pixies, Albus decided to read through the letters. It had been a while since he last spoke with his family, so it would be nice to hear them, even if it was just through letters.

Weeks ago, Albus had sent his relatives letters, asking them for help. "How would you explain 'love'?" he had asked them. At the time, it had seemed like a silly, spur of the moment decision to owl them, but now he was thankful that he had. The last few weeks had been so miserable for him that Albus could use a reminder that good things still existed in the world.

Opening up the two letters from his cousin Rose and his sister Lily, Albus coughed as a cloud of flower-scented perfume assaulted his olfactory senses. Once he could breathe properly, he chuckled. In lieu of a proper letter, both Rose and Lily had decided to draw him their responses. He was impressed by their drawing abilities, especially considering how abysmal his own were. Rose had drawn a picture of her with her large family, the Potter brood included. On the bottom of the picture, Rose had written him a note: _"Love means knowing that there are people out there who are always thinking about you. I love you Albus. Don't let your students get you down! I'll give you some friendly advice, one teacher to another, when you come over for Christmas._" Albus grinned as he set the picture down, picking up Lily's.

Lily was not as great of an artist as Rose, but she certainly had an eye for color. While Rose's family portrait had been rendered in subdued colors, Lily's picture of her winning the Quidditch World Cup had every color Lily could think to use. Moving the image around a little, Albus could see that she had even used glitter and glue in certain parts, the dust clinging to Albus' fingers now. She might have been an adult now, but Lily was never one to allow her inner child to outgrow strategically placed glitter. Turning the picture around, he saw that Lily, in what looked like a bright red market, had boldly written: _"When you have something you love, your heart is filled with fire! Give them Hell, Al! P.S. Your Christmas gift to me better be great this year, or else. No more books!"_

Lily had always been like that, a Gryffindor through and through. She actually reminded him a lot of James. It was no wonder that he grew up to be such a quiet, thoughtful person when he was jammed in between two loud, somewhat crass and obnoxious people. At least shopping for them was rather easy. He had already bought Lily some new Quidditch equipment and had even gotten the goggles signed by every member of her favorite team, the Fitchburg Furies. Harwood knew the old captain of the team, Maximus Brankovitch III, and had called in a few favors for Albus. Looking at the two images, he smiled as he pinned them on his wall next to the few pictures of his family he currently had up. They had a habit of constantly sending him photos and other pictures, so Albus rarely bothered with picture frames. He just hoped that his wall would be big enough to hold all the photos they would be constantly sending him once the idea of Albus really being in America finally hit them. He doubted it, considering the size of his family.

Next, Albus picked up the envelope from his brother, James. Opening it up, he pulled out a picture and a small note. His eyes widened at the picture, quickly shoving it into the desk drawer. It had been a nude photograph of some woman, waving at him and giving him an inviting wink. With his face bright red, he looked over at the note.

_With knockers like that, what's not to love?_

_Love,_

_James and Teddy_

In his head, Albus could just imagine both men cackling as they tried to find just the right image to send him. The only consolation Albus had was the knowledge that, living in a perpetually crowded house, when James and Teddy got their howlers from him, everyone in the family would know about their sordid little joke. He only wished he could be there to see their horrified faces when Joanna delivered the dreaded red envelopes.

Pouring himself a glass of water from the pitcher, he opened up his Uncle Ron's letter. At the very least, he doubted his uncle would send him any rude photographs.

_Dear Al,_

_Blood hell, that's a tricky question, isn't it? I saw your father writing his letter earlier, so I can't let him one up me. Love means that you can care about someone other than yourself. I know, it might not seem like a big deal, but no one who could sacrifice for someone else has ever turned out to be completely wicked. Even that smarmy git, Draco Malfoy, loved his parents. It's part of the reason he and his whole family aren't rotting in Azkaban like the snakes they are._

_Look, I'll have your aunt answer this question too. She's a lot better at these things than I am. Oh, and don't work too hard at your new school. We want to see you alive at Christmas!_

_Love,_

_Uncle Ron_

Albus laughed softly as he shook his head. It seemed no matter how many years passed, his Uncle Ron still had not gotten over his hatred for Scorpius' father. His Aunt assured him that it was more bark than bite. His uncle insulted the Malfoys almost on reflex rather than any real hated anymore. He had even met Scorpius a handful of times at King's Cross Station and had commented on how polite he was. For a Malfoy, he had quickly added. Albus thought his uncle's hatred for the Malfoys was funnier than anything else. Briefly, he wondered if he should invite Scorpius over for Christmas. Shaking his head at the imagined chaos, he moved on to his aunt's letter.

True to her nature, his aunt Hermione had practically written a dissertation on the topic of love. She had even skipped the normal letter-writing formalities and jumped right into her key points.

_I believe it was the late American poet Jean Toomer who once said that 'we never know we are beings 'till we love. And _then _it is we know the powers and potentialities of human existence.'_

Albus moved over to the bed, relaxing against his pillows. His aunt had sent him a fourteen page "letter". He planned to read every word, but he also planned to do so comfortably. As he read the letter, he was in awe at just how brilliant his aunt truly was. Over the years, she had written numerous books and papers on the topics of social justice in both the wizard and Muggle worlds and had even been at the forefront of many movements.

Albus' heart welled with affection as he recalled all the times he had listened to his Aunt Hermione speak at the dinner table about the latest injustice. His Uncle would just nod his head, but Albus had always been enraptured by her every word. Ron would, on occasions when they were alone, confess to Albus that he thought his wife often made mountains out of mole hills, but Albus never saw her in that light. Albus always thought his aunt Hermione was like a white knight, fighting for those who would not or could not fight for themselves. Her words would cut through bigotry and intolerance like a knife. Albus was happy to know that people like his aunt existed and took up arms in the name of Justice. It had been years since Dumbledore's Army had been called to action, not since the War, but it seemed some ideals never died.

When he finally reached the last of the letter, Albus chuckled with a light shake of his head. It seemed his Aunt had remembered that she was writing to her nephew and not someone on a Ministry committee and her tone had become gentler.

_Whether philosophical, spiritual, or biological, love is something all humans instinctively cling to and hunt for all their lives. The world is a large, frightening place, Albus, and it is love that reminds us that we are never truly alone in the dark. I'll stop here for now. I don't want to bore you. If you still want to talk of this matter, just let me know when you come home for Christmas! But don't tell your uncle I offered. You know how he is. He thinks once the two of us get to talking, we never stop. He's just an idiot sometimes, so ignore him. I love you, Albus._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

Albus set the stack of letters down on the night stand by his bed. His aunt and uncle really were an odd pair. They were a pair that should have never worked out, but somehow had managed it. He was happy for it too as he loved his cousins Hugo and Rose. It was also hilarious watching his uncle and aunt bicker.

The final letter was from his father and Albus was a little hesitant to open it. He loved his father, he did, but he could not help but be cowed by his presence, even thousands of miles away across the ocean. It was stressful to be the son of Harry Potter. Knowing he could not postpone the moment any longer, Albus tore open the letter, quickly reading what his father had to say.

_Love is an unwavering power. It has the ability to light the blackest darkness and to turn monsters into men. It has been my shield for as long as I have felt it._

Albus' heart welled at his father's words. He had heard his story numerous times. He knew just how powerful love could be.

_Trying to explain love to someone who has never known it is akin to trying to explain a sunrise to a blind man. You are a little like your aunt, Albus. You think that everything can be explained, given enough knowledge. More often than not, you are right. This is one instance, however, when reason and academic pursuit cannot help you._

Albus stopped reading for a moment. He could almost feel as if he were in his father's study once more, his father giving him advice.

_If explanations fail you, then simply show him he is loved. Then, explanations will not be necessary._

He had been a fool. Even if he had been able to explain it, Lucas would have never believed him. Albus should have known that much. Lucas had no faith in anything. He believed in magic only in so much as he could use it. Albus had known this and yet he had blindly believed that if he could properly define love, Lucas would have had no choice but to admit it existed.

It was ridiculous to expect that of Lucas when Albus himself only believed in love because he had felt it all his life. For once, he would have to rely on actions and not words. Setting the letters away, he left the safety of his quarters and went down up to the fourth floor.

In order to begin showing Lucas what it meant to be loved, he would actually have to gather the courage to face the young man.

Albus had been avoiding Lucas, he knew that, but it had taken a while for him to admit to himself the reason for his apprehension. It was his first year as an official teacher and he had failed to save a student. Maybe, if he had stopped the lesson when his instincts told him to do so, he could have saved Lucas from what happened next. He was ashamed that he had reacted so slowly. Albus feared that people would blame him, even though no one had. He almost wished they would. The sympathy directed towards him made it difficult to breathe sometimes.

He was just about to open the door to the infirmary when it suddenly opened and Albus stood face-to-face in front of Matthew. He could see Lucas over Matthew's shoulder, sleeping peacefully. Matthew stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him. "Hello, Mr. Potter. If you want to see Lucas, I recommend coming back tomorrow. Doc assures me he'll be feeling better then." With that, he turned to walk down the hall, back to his dorm room. Albus reached out to grab his arm to stop him.

"What do you mean he'll be better then? He hasn't...he hasn't spoken to anyone in weeks. What exactly has changed?" Albus had been hoping that Lucas would recover soon, but Huerta had said nothing to him the few times he had asked about his student.

Matthew gave Albus a small, pained smile. "I know how you feel, Mr. Potter. He's been in his own head for a long time and now that I'm told that he'll be fine tomorrow, it almost feels sudden."

Albus sighed as he let go of Matthew. He looked Matthew over before speaking quietly, almost worried about being overheard, "Logan said that if I wanted to know what happened, I should ask you." Matthew visibly flinched, but Albus kept going, "If I asked, would you tell me, Matthew?"

Silence fell between the two men as they looked at each other. Slowly reaching up, Matthew adjusted his glasses. "Tomorrow. Good-bye, Mr. Potter." And that was the end of the conversation as Matthew left Albus to his thoughts.

* * *

><p>The rest of the day passed at a snail's pace for Albus. The second years had picked up the proper ways to dispel pixies rather quickly, but the lesson still felt like it dragged. Albus had finally had enough and dismissed his class early.<p>

He spent much of the rest of the day in the large school library, going through many old books on advanced spellwork. The spells Lucas had cast never once left Albus' mind. They were a mystery and not ones that Albus wanted to abandon.

He had contemplated asking his father, but had thought against it not long after. Albus did not like asking things from his father and he had already met his self-imposed quota for a while. He knew it was petty, but Albus tried not to rely on his father if he could help it. If he was ever going to prove to the world he was more than Harry Potter's son, he would have stop relying on Harry Potter to get him out of all of his troubles. Scorpius had offered to send a letter to his old masters so Albus made a note to ask Scorpius if he had received word from them.

Albus got his chance to talk to Scorpius a lot sooner than he suspected that sent for him a few hours before dinner and told him that a member of the Education Council would be coming to visit the school and had requested to have dinner with the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Albus had looked a little apprehensive. He wasn't very good with dealing with new social situations. Rutherford could sense this and told Albus not to worry. As patron of the school, Scorpius had been invited to join as well and Rutherford was happy to announce that he had indeed accepted.

That was all it took to convince Albus to accept the invitation. Albus had gone by the cafe every day since the Halloween party, hoping to see Scorpius, but the other man did not appear. At first, he had sent notice that he was busy taking care of some things at the school, but eventually, the notes stopped and Albus was left to eat lunch on his own. He had tried to ignore the change in Scorpius. They were not children anymore. They were adults with adult responsibilities. Just because Scorpius did not have the time to meet him for lunch, it did not mean that Albus was the problem. It did not mean that there was something wrong with their friendship.

He was not the sort of man to create problems in his own head, but that did not mean he did not miss his normally enjoyable afternoon tea with Scorpius. Albus figured that he should just stop going all together, getting tired of eating lunch all by himself every day, and yet when noon would roll around, Albus found himself in that familiar cafe. He was thankful that the invitation finally provided him a chance to see Scorpius again. Albus had missed his dear friend after their time apart.

It was odd. He had spent years with out Scorpius, but the last few weeks had been more painful than all that. Albus idly wondered what had changed.

Albus thanked the waiter softly as a menu was placed before him. At the private table in the particularly upscale restaurant, Le Voile d'Argent, Albus could not help but feel out of place. It was out on a balcony, overlooking a gorgeous fountain. They would be the only group out on the balcony that night, the waiter had assured him. The man had meant to reassure Albus that his meeting would be private, but Albus was inconsolably on edge just being in the restaurant. He glanced through the wine list nervously. There were no prices listed. Albus had never gone to such a restaurant before, but he had heard of them.

He felt relieved then that Scorpius had sent Rutherford notice that he would be paying for the evening. Being a teacher at Peppertongue certainly did not pay much. Then again, Albus thought, one did not become a teacher to make a fortune.

Hearing footsteps approach, Albus quickly got up to his feet to greet Scorpius and the Education Council member. His heart dropped when he saw the woman from the Halloween party, Madam Belrose, with her arm around Scorpius's. Albus glanced at Scorpius in confusion before he managed to mutter a soft greeting.

She offered him her hand and, after looking at it in confusion for a moment, he shook it. Belrose just laughed. "My, you certainly are rather common, aren't you, Albus?" She simply said as she walked with Scorpius to her seat. Belrose was dressed in a beautiful midnight blue gown, but Albus' eyes were on Scorpius. He simply could not understand what Scorpius was thinking. Why was he being so uncharacteristically kind to a woman he obviously did not trust? After what Scorpius had told him about her, Albus knew he certainly could not bring himself to be particularly nice to her.

"I'm sorry. Did I... do something wrong?" he asked weakly but Scorpius just reached out and took the wine list from him.

"Forget about it, Potter. It isn't important, is it, Madam Belrose?" Something was wrong with Scorpius and it made Albus incredibly uneasy. Scorpius seemed to be acting automatically. His manners were too perfect and his face was completely unreadable. The woman looked over at Scorpius, her eyes looking directly into his. Albus suddenly grabbed his clothe napkin, putting it on his lap. The noise was enough to capture the woman's attention.

Slowly, she smiled. Albus looked away. He hated the way she was looking at him through a half-lidded gaze. "No, I suppose it doesn't matter. Though, I think that's what I find so fascinating about you, Albus," she crooned, an easy smile on her dark red lips. "Most people I meet are like Scorpius here. So eager to bend over backward to make me happy. You, on the other hand, don't even know how to act around me."

"And you think that's fascinating?" Albus asked, voice trailing off helplessly. Scorpius grip on the menu tightened for a moment before he relaxed.

"Not just fascinating. Charming. Adorable even. You remind me a little of my son." Reaching up, she gently began to play with one of her long, pale blond curls. "The first time I took him out to a proper restaurant, he threw a fit when he realized they didn't serve grilled cheese. He got so angry that he wound up exploding some of the water pitchers without realizing it," she said with a laugh, "The waiter was a squib and got rather frightened and ran straight to the kitchen and demanded they make my son what it was he wanted. Oh, it was hilarious. Every squib in that kitchen was running around, doing anything to keep my little boy content."

Albus furrowed his brows. "If that's true, then I don't see how he and I are similar at all. If you'll excuse me, Madam Belrose, but I have never in my life terrorized someone like that." Scorpius was trying to subtly tell Albus to keep him his mouth shut, but Albus was too much on the defensive to notice. "Shouldn't you have shown him how to control his temper? Especially as a child."

Rather than be offended, the woman just smirked. "Why should I have stopped him? My child was born a wizard, Albus, as were you and as was Scorpius here. A wizard is not like a lowly Muggle or a squib." Now it was Albus' turn to look at her in shock. Was she completely unaware of why the last War had been fought? Or did it not matter anymore? "They are meant to attain all the power in the world. I see no problem with squibs wanting to make a wizard happy."

As soon as he heard her words, Albus quickly turned to look at Scorpius. He was shocked when Scorpius did not even look angry at her words. Instead, Scorpius was calling a waiter over, giving him their wine order. When had Scorpius changed so much?

Well, if Scorpius would not say anything to the woman, Albus certainly would. Perhaps he did take after his Aunt more than he cared to admit. "Muggles and squibs are equal to wizards, Madam Belrose. They are all people." Albus could feel his hands trembling so he moved them off of the table, grasping his napkin on his lap. He willed his expression to be as smooth as possible, as unreadable as Scorpius's. "I should think that by simply looking at our recent history, the dangers of the pursuit of great power would be evident."

"As if Muggles are saints to be followed, Mr. Potter," was her reply. "Wanting power is the desire of all living beings. Some people are simply born better," the woman said easily. She still smiled. Taking the glass of wine from the waiter, she took a small sip. "Schools like Durmstrang ought to be emulated more often if you ask me. Schools in this country have gotten ridiculously inclusive. Some of them have actually started accepting _squibs_,"she sneered.

Albus was surprised. "What do you mean? Why would a squib need to go to a school for wizards?" The schools he had been to were created with magic in mind. Everything functioned by the power of the wand. In England, a squib would not even be able to make the Hogwarts Express for the first day of school.

Before the woman was allowed the rant that was brewing, Scorpius spoke, his words easy and steady. "Many schools here are not like Hogwarts, Potter. They are normal buildings that do not function by magic. Many squibs want to be a part of the magical community and this country operates on the old adage that 'if there is a will, there is a way'. "Albus could not help but smile. He always found the idea of a squib to be quite a melancholy one: a person trapped between two worlds, but not belonging to either. If it were possible for them to better find a home, he was happy for them. Scorpius continued, "In fact, this country's wizard community is actually supported by a rather large network of squibs. These squibs retain jobs in the Muggle world and keep the wizarding community secret."

Albus nodded thoughtfully. "I had wondered how it was possible to keep magic a secret in a country this large. I am told there are thousands of schools across the country, with hundreds of students in each school."

"That's very true," Scorpius confirmed, "And because marrying Muggles is so common here, the sheer volume of wizards is huge. And it is squibs that help to maintain order."

"But how? They don't have magic..."

Scorpius laughed a bit, a grin coming over his face, even as Belrose scowled. "No, but they have minds, brilliant ones at that, more often than you would think. They maintain clerical positions in most levels of the wizard government. Many are like walking encyclopedias on both Muggle and wizarding laws. There are thousands of squibs in the Muggle government of the country as well." Scorpius took a sip of his wine, unable to wipe the almost victorious look from his face. "In Europe, being a squib might be something to pity, but not here. They are more like liaisons between wizards and Muggles in this country."

Albus gained a new level of respect for the country where he currently found himself. He remembered that back home, whenever a squib was born to a magical family, it was seen as a sign of shame and the child was condemned to be excluded or forgotten. This country seemed to approach the whole issue of squibs in a radically different manner. The more he thought about it, the more Albus realized that without squibs, it would have simply been impossible to handle a population explosion of young wizards. Even if they were unable to have the magic that wizards had from birth, the squibs of the country had the respect and gratitude of the wizarding community. "So, the schools that are open for the squibs..."

"Recently, schools have been set up to give squibs a chance to properly learn magical theory from instructors rather than through parents or on jobs. They learn everything that any student from Peppertongue or Hogwarts or any other wizarding school would be expected to learn," he said with a shadow of a smirk before continuing, "but in addiction, they also have to complete a full Muggle education," Scorpius said, a hint of triumph in his tone. He hadn't said anything to chastise the woman earlier, so Albus had worried that in the years that had passed, Scorpius had changed his view of the world. He was happy to see that he was wrong. "Only the most brilliant of students are accepted into these schools and, in terms of test scores on written exams, these squib-only schools have outranked every single wizarding schools in this country and abroad. "

"Not that it matters," The woman quickly interjected,"What's the point of knowing theory if you can never use it? They are just wasting their time."

Scorpius did not attempt to say a word. Instead, Albus spoke up, "Knowledge of our world is important, especially if these squibs are trusted to hold positions in Muggle society. As lawyers or doctors or peace officers, they need to be aware of what wizards and witches are capable of doing." It really was an efficient set up, the more he thought on it. "This way, squibs can protect Muggles from wizards who might wish to take advantage of them." Albus really would have to write and tell his Aunt Hermione all about what he had just learned.

The woman's sweet smile slipped for a moment as she openly frowned at Albus. He felt his heart sink. As soon as it began, it was over and the woman smiled once more. "I suppose you're right, Albus. Though I'm still unsure of how smart it is to mix our two communities, magical and Muggle." She idly held her glass out to the waiter for more wine before she continued, changing the subject completely. "I heard recently that Matilda White's son has gone to a psychiatric hospital despite what Dr. Huerta and my own Council has tried to tell her."

Albus tensed. She was talking about Clarence. "How did you hear about that?" Even he had heard nothing. He assumed Clarence had been spending time with his family.

"Oh, because it's been causing the Education Council quite a bit of headache as of late. Matilda is a Muggle through and through and her husband is a fourth generation squib. How little Clarence wound up getting any magical ability, I have no idea," she said, before giving an almost exasperated sigh before continuing," After the accident, he began to see Thestrals, as I'm sure you're well aware." Albus nodded. He had heard the whole story of what happened directly from Clarence. He had been the one who suggested he go home and get some rest. "We tried to explain to Matilda that Thestrals _did _exist, that her son was not suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder or what have you, but she insisted on taking him to go see a doctor anyway. Poor Clarence was not crazy to begin with, but I'm sure he is now after weeks of the pills and psychological devilry that passes for Muggle medicine now-a-days. "

Albus began to tremble. It was all he could do to keep from screaming at the woman who was talking about one of _his _students so nonchalantly. "What are they doing to him? Why wasn't I informed of this? I'm his teacher!"

"Mind your tone," Belrose said with a sweet laugh, wagging a finger at him disapprovingly. That just made Albus' blood boil hotter. He shot Scorpius a look, growing more aggravated when Scorpius just looked bored. "The principal has been informed of Clarence's predicament. It is up to him if he wishes to tell his staff anything," she leaned close and rested her chin delicately on interlaced fingers, "I can see why he would not tell you what happened. You are far too emotional."

"_Emotional? _How on earth can you be so heartless?" Albus screamed, the waiters all looking at him in shock. Even Scorpius was looking at him, startled. It was rare for Albus to explode like that. "Clarence is my student! If he's being hurt, I will do _whatever _I can to save him!"

Belrose was quiet for several long moments, her light blue eyes looking Albus over before she smiled even wider. When her soft giggling reached his ears, Albus' heart sank. "I can see now that you truly are your father's son. I suppose it can't be easy, living in Harry Potter's shadow." Albus opened his mouth to say something, but Belrose cut in," But understand this, Albus: You are just one man. There will _always _be those you can't save."

"That doesn't mean I shouldn't even try," he said, suddenly standing up, tossing his napkin onto the table.

Scorpius looked up at him over his wine glass. "We haven't even had a chance to have dinner yet, don't cause a scene. Sit down."

In his mind, Albus was screaming every obscenity he knew. He wanted to upturn the table, and scream out his frustrations. But he did none of those things. Instead, Albus looked over at Scorpius as he gave him the sweetest smile he could muster. Grabbing his own wine glass, Albus tossed its contents in Scorpius' face. He thought doing such a thing would make him feel better, but Scorpius didn't even react to being soaked with incredibly expensive wine, his blond hair stained red as it fell down his face in small streams.

"I would rather starve to death than to ever share a meal with such a venomous viper," he informed his friend. Belrose's smile never once even wavered," I am fond of you Scorpius. Normally anyway," he was quick to add. "But right now, I can't even look at you without becoming quite upset." Standing up straight, he adjusted his suit, trying to regain his dignity even as he was painfully aware of the stares they were getting from everyone else in the restaurant. "So, if you will both forgive my rudeness, I am going to excuse myself before I punch you in your smug nose, Mr. Malfoy. Good evening," He said as politely as he could before he turned on his heels and walked out of the restaurant.

Scorpius watched Albus leave, clenching his jaws so hard they started to throb. After a few moments, tired of the concerned looks the staff was giving him, he pulled out his wand and cleaned up the remnants of the wine. Setting his wand on the table, he slumped back against the chair as he leaned his head back. The night sky was beautiful, the moon waning in the sky.

Reaching up, he rubbed at his face. He removed them only when he felt Belrose slip into his lap. Moving his hands away quickly, he managed to glare at her before she cupped his cheek and pressed their lips together. Scorpius rolled his eyes and allowed her to kiss him. He was thankful that the other restaurant patrons no longer had interest in the group on the balcony, and the restaurant staff had left them to their own devices after Albus left. Belrose had probably silently enchanted the whole area just to give them privacy. He gave a weak grunt when he felt her long, manicured nails digging into his face.

Leaning back away from the kiss, Belrose watched as Scorpius wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. He could be so common sometimes, she thought to herself. Slowly, she slipped her slender arms around his neck, running long fingers through his blond hair. "Do you hate me for making you face him like this?" He said nothing. She suddenly grabbed at his hair, giving it a sharp, painful tug back. Scorpius hissed, but she continued. "You have to understand, it was necessary. I need to know where your loyalties lie. Someone like him, he doesn't understand where you and I are coming from, does he?" Leaning in close, she whispered against his ear," He would just prove to be a weak link in our plans."

"Your plans," Scorpius corrected, trying to turn his head, but she grabbed at his jaws and forced him to look at her. Instantly, Scorpius brought up his mental walls. If she was trying to read him, something she often tried to do, he would put up ever Occlumency-enforced barrier he knew. If she tried, his defenses would be useless, but that never stopped him from trying. As he looked up at her, he could feel himself smirk.

She was looking at him with such a dark expression that she looked like the monster he knew her to be. She always tried to look so young, majestic and pure, but none of that fooled Scorpius. And now, she knew it didn't fool Albus, either. She couldn't be too happy about that.

"Why must you continue to fight me, Scorpius? I am beginning to grow weary of this game that we play," she purred, stroking against the bleeding marks on his cheek. "You do whatever I say so obediently, but you go out of your way to let me know you hate it all. Why must you hurt me so, Scorpius?" Leaning in close, she softly kissed along his neck, whispering against it." I already have your body."

"But my mind will always be my own," he said quickly, surprising even himself. He was putting up quite the fight tonight, Scorpius thought. He had almost forgotten what it had been like to fight for his own self-preservation. His own self-respect. It was Albus' influence.

Belrose just giggled as she hopped off of his lap. Scorpius had hoped the conversation was over, but knew as soon as she moved behind him and slipped her arms around his neck that she wasn't quite finished with him. "My goodness. I had almost forgotten that my little scorpion still had his stinger. So tell me, if I own your body and you own your mind, who will possess your heart?" Scorpius was suddenly on his feet. He made a move to grab at his wand, but Belrose sent it flying without even revealing her own or uttering a single word. "If that boy is going to prove to be an obstacle for me, Scorpius, my pet, I will not hesitate. Am I understood?"

Sighing, Scorpius' was nodding his head. He had lost. That was all he ever seemed to do the last few years.

The woman reached up to pet the top of his head, purposely mussing his hair. "Excellent. I cannot have a fleeting fancy dull my mad dog's teeth, now can I?" Scorpius obediently shook his head. "No, I can't. Don't ever forget the debt you owe, Scorpius."

How could he? She never allowed him to forget it.

* * *

><p><strong>November 8, 2031<strong>

Matthew sighed softly as he sat down on a small bench in the Owlery. He had been in there ever since Harwood had dismissed them from class early that day. Knowing that Albus would be visiting Lucas that day, Matthew had avoided going to see the younger boy, as much as it pained him to have to stay away. Matthew was prepared to avoid Albus and his inevitable questions for as long as he could.

When the door to the Owlery opened, Matthew almost jumped with a start. He didn't think anyone would be going to the Owlery so close to dinner. When he saw Albus, his shoulders slumped. So much for avoiding his teacher.

It was a good thing that Albus had been the first to speak because Matthew was finding it difficult to form any words at the moment. "Good evening, Matthew. I wasn't expecting to see anyone in the Owlery this late! You must really take good care of your owl. That's smart. Don't want letters going missing, now do you," he chuckled as he fed Joanna. Taking out two bright red letters, he gave them to the waiting owl before releasing her into the night sky.

Matthew watched the owl fly off before he looked at Albus curiously. Were those Howlers? Who on earth could Albus be sending those to at that time of night? Did Albus have children that needed to be reprimanded? Matthew suddenly realized that while he and Albus were on relatively friendly terms, he didn't actually know much about the man personally other than who his parents were. What was even more surprising was that Albus was being kind to him. "Mr. Potter, have you been to see Lucas today?"

"No. Dr. Huerta told me I wouldn't be able to until after dinner. "That explained why Albus was even willing to speak with him. He had not seen what had become of Lucas yet.

"I see," Matthew muttered as he looked away from Albus. The teacher had been looking at him worriedly. He hated that expression, especially when it was aimed at him. Going over to Matthew, Albus sat down beside him. For several long minutes, the two just sat there, a comfortable silence settling between them. Finally, Matthew said softly, "Aren't you going to ask me... why Lucas reacted so violently to seeing our old teacher?" Taking off his glasses, he wiped at them as slowly as possible.

Albus looked out the window before he breathed in the night air. "Believe me, I'm curious. It seems like there is just so much happening around here that I do not comprehend." Matthew felt guilty. Albus' words were true. "But if the cost for satisfying my curiosity is causing my student unneeded pain, then I am not interested."

"W-what?"

"What I mean Matthew, is if you do not want to tell me what happened, then I am not there to force it from you. Honestly, I doubt there is much I can do other than listen." When Matthew said nothing, Albus continued, "You already seem to have a lot of adults who are watching out for you, Matthew. I trust you are in good hands." Reaching out, Albus just gave the top of Matthew's head a light pat.

Matthew was relieved that Albus wasn't going to force him to say anything that he didn't want. He was relieved, so he was rather confused when the feeling of relief was quickly washed away by disappointment. He only realized then just how much he wanted to reveal to someone he could trust just what it is that has been haunting him. He fought back tears as he looked over at Albus. He wanted so badly to trust him.

"I really want to tell you, Mr. Potter. I do," he said in a trembling voice.

Albus shook his head. "If you aren't ready to tell me, don't push yourself."

With a shuddering sigh, he looked down on his lap. "I can't tell you everything, but... but I do want to tell you a little part of it." He just hoped he could bring himself to say even so little of the greater story.

Albus looked at him surprised but nodded his head. "Alright, Matthew. Whatever you need to get off your chest, please go ahead."

Nodding his head, Matthew reached up, fidgeting with his glasses. "Mr. Kriedler was our old Defense teacher. He was really a nice man. He liked all of his students, especially Lucas. Lucas always said he thought the man was like his dad," Matthew recalled with a faint smile. "But then, for some reason, that changed and he started acting cold towards Lucas. One day, Lucas says that he's going to the basements to meet with Kriedler after he failed the Patronus lesson. M atthew trailed off, trying to find his voice enough to continue. "Kriedler had gone crazy. He used the _Cruciatus_ curse on Lucas."

Albus felt ill. At the time, Lucas would have only been thirteen and the boy always had been small for his age. Albus couldn't understand how any man, especially a trusted teacher, could torture his student like that. Suddenly, Albus remembered the day Matthew faced his Boggart and the way the Boggart-Lucas had screamed in agony, writhing on the ground like he was being tortured. He looked at Matthew in shock. "You... saw Lucas being tortured."

Matthew just nodded his head as he hunched over, clutching at his hair. "I saw Kriedler curse Lucas again and again, but I just couldn't-I couldn't even move. I had just turned fifteen. Kriedler was a god damn teacher. If I tried to go in there, if he knew that I had caught him, he'd have just killed me. He had already used one Unforgivable. What was to stop him from using another?" Matthew snorted bitterly, "What's that old saying? In for a penny, in for a pound?"

Reaching out, Albus rubbed Matthew's back as the boy started to cry, shoulders shaking from the effort. "It wasn't your fault. You were scared." If it had been Albus in Matthew's shoes and Scorpius being tortured, Albus doubted that he would have been able to do much more. Not as a scared fifteen-year-old.

Trying to stifle his sobs, Matthew looked at Albus sheepishly. "... Aren't you going to call me a coward, Mr. Potter? I love him but... I couldn't save him. I let him get hurt. He could have been killed."

Albus just shook his head as he rested a hand on Matthew's back. "I don't think you were a coward, Matthew. I think you were fifteen and rightfully scared of a man who spent years of his life hunting dark wizards day and night. If you had tried to stop him, you would have died needlessly." Matthew was unconvinced and so Albus added, "Well, let me ask you this: if someone were hurting Lucas right now, would you hesitate again?"

"Not for an instant," Matthew said quickly. "I have been thinking about this every day for months, Mr. Potter. If anyone tried to hurt Lucas today and I knew about it, I'd put a stop to it, one way or another. I wouldn't even think about it."

Albus chuckled. "If that's true, you're no coward. Being reckless with one's life is easy, Matthew. It's facing fear for the sake of another that is the true mark of a hero. Now, let's go."

Matthew looked up at him after a moment. He seemed to accept Albus' words, even if he didn't quite believe them as of yet. "Where are we going?"

"If I recall, we aren't allowed to see Lucas until after dinner. I propose we go down to Dragons Camp and get him some sweets." Matthew laughed at the suggestion as he stood up, wiping at the last of his tears. Jamming his hands in his pockets, he followed Albus out of the Owlery.

As they walked down to Dragons Camp side-by-side, Matthew glanced over at his teacher as he rambled on about the troubles of running a proper dueling team. Albus was a little awkward sometimes, and far too young to really be considered wise, but Matthew couldn't help but feel at ease around him. After Kriedler's betrayed, Matthew never thought he could ever like a teacher again, much less want to trust one, but he was finding it difficult to be defensive around Albus. He hoped Albus would prove worthy of the trust he considered placing in him.

* * *

><p>Between the two of them, Albus was sure he and Matthew had bought Lucas enough sweets to rot the boy's teeth right out of his head. There were flavored beans, chocolate frogs, bags of chocolate coated fruits, lollipops and several bags of mystery candy that Matthew had insisted on getting for Lucas' gambling side. Matthew had even bought a small cake. "I hope he likes all of this," Albus said as the two of them walked to the infirmary.<p>

"Oh, he will, Mr. Potter, believe me. There isn't anything he loves more than sweets. "

"Then I suppose I've never met someone who truly had a sweet tooth until today," Albus said with a light chuckle. When they arrived to the infirmary, he reached out and opened the infirmary door. He could hardly stifle a growl when inside of the room, he saw Belrose.

She was sitting by the bed while Lucas was on his feet, hopping around excitedly, swinging his arms around the air. "And then, can you believe, both the Bludgers hit me right in the ribs! I wish you could have seen it..."

The woman just laughed as she reached out, scratching underneath Lucas' chin. "I wish I could have, sweetie. Oh, but look. It looks like you've got visitors." Belrose looked over at Albus, giving him a sharp grin.

Matthew was looking at her with wide eyes. He turned to look at Albus, and for a moment it looked like he was about to say something when Lucas was suddenly on him, looking much happier than Albus had ever see him before. "There you are, Matthew! Come on, come on, I want you to meet my mom! Mr. Potter, you too!" Lucas insisted. Albus' heart sank at the word "mom". She had mentioned having a son at Peppertongue. Albus could have never guessed it was Lucas. It made no sense.

"Actually, Mr. Potter has always met your mother, Lucas." Scorpius had been standing by the door so quietly that Albus only noticed him when he spoke. Rather than create a scene, Albus just nodded, giving Lucas the sweets he had gotten for him.

Reaching out, he pet his hair. "Mr. Malfoy is right, Lucas. I've already had the pleasure of meeting her. She's quite the woman. Very well regarded." With that he stood up straight, turning to walk back towards the door, trying to appear relaxed. "I think I'll leave you to introduce Matthew to your mother then. I look forward to reading your essays when you finish recovering Lucas," he said, forcing a smile. Lucas just groaned as he tugged Matthew towards his bed, flopping down in it, Matthew sitting down quietly beside him. He was eying the blond woman rather nervously. Albus sensed he wasn't just nervous from meeting an objectively attractive woman. There was a look of dread in his expression.

"Scorpius, my dear, why don't you go out as well? I would like time alone with my son and his friend. Meet me at the school entrance in an hour," Belrose said sweetly as she reached out, softly stroking Lucas' hair. Lucas beamed at the attention, leaning in close to the touch, like a puppy would to its owner.

Scorpius just nodded his head as he stepped out of the room. He waited for Albus to walk out as well before he closed the door. Silently, the two of them walked down the hall, Albus slightly behind Scorpius. Eventually, they got to a deserted part of the school, not having seen a student or a teacher for several minutes. When they were alone, Albus stopped and looked up at him. "Scorpius, won't you please tell me what's going on with you these last few weeks?"

He was not even looking at Albus, his back to him, whole body tense. "I don't know what you're talking about, Potter. Mind your own business."

Albus sighed before reaching out, putting a hand on Scorpius' arm gently, giving him an embarrassed smile. "Look, Scorpius, I'm really sorry for throwing wine at you the other night. I was just rather... annoyed by you. You told me that woman was a monster and because you're my friend, I believed you. But then, I see you constantly with her now. You do whatever she says."

"What's your point?" Scorpius spat out, glaring at Albus now. His hands were clenched fists at his sides.

Albus flinched at Scorpius tone. He was so defensive. What Albus had to say would not be easy. "My point is, I'm not an idiot. Anyone can see that she's got something over you. Even if it's blackmail, no matter what it is, you'll always have me, Scorpius. Just tell me what's wrong. I won't let you do this again."

For a brief moment, a look of panic came over Scorpius' face before the cool expression returned. He pulled away from Albus' touch. Looking down at Albus, he slowly gave him a dark grin. "You don't understand anything. Then again, I can't say I'm surprised. You were always slow. It must be the Weasley blood in you."

Albus's eyes went wide with shock. He could not believe what Scorpius was saying to him of all people. "W...what did you say?" he asked weakly, hoping he had misunderstood.

"Deaf now, Potter? Even if I needed someone to fight my battles, I would at least choose someone who's an equal," Scorpius began to laugh, putting a hand on his hip. "Why would I pick you of all people? You were always the stupidest one in class. No matter what it was, I always picked things up before you and better. I know that and believe me, so do you." The color drained from Albus' face as he stepped back. Scorpius did not relent and he stepped closer towards him until Albus was practically pressed against the wall. "You've always been jealous of me and with good reason. You think if I wasn't stuck in this god forsaken town without other friends I would have even given you the time of day? Don't mistake desperation with friendship. I've been trying to give you the hint for the last few weeks, but you're just too stupid t-" SLAP!

Albus's hand slapped Scorpius' cheek with such force that it throbbed. Holding his hand, Albus began to laugh weakly. It was the only thing he could do to keep from falling apart in front of the man who had been insulting him. "I h-hate you," he stuttered his gaze glued to the floor.

Scorpius stepped forward and closed the distance between them. Putting a hand on the back of Albus' head, he pulled him close until Albus could feel Scorpius's chin on the top of his head. He could feel fingers softly stroking against his black locks. "Good. Keep it that way," Scorpius all but whispered before he moved back away from Albus, his fingers brushing against Albus' cheek as he moved away. With one last look, Scorpius turned and walked towards the stairway.

When he was alone in the hallway once more, Albus slumped back against the wall and collapsed to the floor, his hands against his chest. His heart actually ached. Drawings his knees to his chest, he rested his chin on them. If Scorpius had just told Albus he hated him, if Scorpius had just shoved Albus away or hit him in return, Albus would have understood his intention. As much as it would pain him, he would stop being Scorpius's friend.

Instead, Scorpius had held him close, touched his hair and spoke with such misery in his voice that Albus could hardly keep from crying. He didn't care what Scorpius had said about him. He wasn't like James. He wasn't easy to rile up with words. Besides, Albus accepted many of the things that Scorpius said to be facts, not hollow insults. They hurt, sure, but they were nothing Albus hadn't already told to himself. What hurt Albus was the knowledge that Scorpius was trapped but didn't have faith that Albus was capable of saving him. He hated to admit it, but it was probably true. He hated himself for falling apart when Scorpius obviously needed him the most. He really was as useless as Scorpius thought he was.

Jumping to his feet suddenly, Albus delivered a series of swift punches to the hallway wall. Albus was twenty-five years old already! He wasn't just some student at Hogwarts anymore, trying to avoid getting his feelings hurt at all costs. He was fully capable of teaching children how to defend themselves from all things dark, so what gave Scorpius the right to think that Albus would be useless to defend him? Even if Albus wasn't as powerful a wizard as Scorpius, if they were working together, they would form a team that was stronger than either individual part. When the sharp ache in his hand became too much to ignore, Albus just let his arm fall to his side as he leaned against the wall.

Lightly, he banged his forehead against the wall for a few moments, trying to clear his head. He needed to calm down and think about the situation rationally or else he really would be useless to Scorpius. The fact that Scorpius was obviously trying to get Albus to hate him was a clear sign he was in trouble. Scorpius was in trouble and whatever it was, he wanted Albus to stay far from it. He had done just as much before, though back then he had just used an owl. Maybe what he was trying to protect Albus from back then was related to what he was trying to protect him from now. Being capable of so much selflessness, Scorpius should have been sorted into Gryffindor, and that thought annoyed Albus as he rested his heated cheek against the cold wall.

Scorpius should listen to his Slytherin side more often: safety in numbers!

In his mind, Albus was already formulating a plan. Albus would discover why Scorpius had resigned himself to be Belrose's play thing, save him from her wicked clutches, and then punch Scorpius right in his Malfoy nose for making Albus worry so much. But first, he decided he should go see Huerta about his hand.

He wished now more than ever that he had taken James up on his offer to learn to fight. Albus made a silent vow to himself as he walked to the infirmary that he would get James to teach him to throw a proper punch the next time he saw his older brother.

Albus was fairly certain that he had broken his hand from punching the wall.

**TBC**


	6. So, It's 'Albus' Now?

******Author's Note: [07/03/2012]****** This chapter has been edited. Some parts of it might have been changed. Thank you all so much for sticking with this story! If you find mistakes, feel free to tell me in a PM or in a review. Thank you and happy reading!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

**"So, It's 'Albus' Now?"**

* * *

><p><strong>December 11, 2031<strong>

"Albus! Hey, wait up!" Albus' eyes widened when he heard the familiar voice coming from down the hall. But it was impossible: there was no way he could here. Turning around, Albus gawked.

"J-James? What on Earth are you doing here?" He asked suddenly, taking a few steps towards his brother.

"I thought it would be obvious," James said as he grinned. Shifting the cloth-covered boxed he had been holding over to one arm, he threw his other one around Albus, giving him a tight hug. "We're here to visit you."

"_We_?"

James nodded his head. "There's me; Lily and dad are down by the entrance talking to the headmaster of this place; and then Madam Hope took Uncle Ron, Uncle George and Aunt Hermione to the dining hall," he rattled off before shoving the boxes into his brother's arms.

"And what are all these? It's a little early for Christmas, isn't it?" Albus asked curiously, walking over to one of the large windows. Setting the boxes down on the window sill, he unwrapped one and then the others. His stomach began to grumble as he saw that each one was filled with food.

"Well, it's because the trip was so sudden, not everyone was able to come, but they all send their love. And gifts. Especially mum," James explained as he walked over to Albus, reaching into one of the boxes and stealing a cookie, shoving it completely into his mouth.

"Mum always worries about me," Albus agreed with a distracted nod as he started picking at the food, some potatoes here, some sausages there. He could hardly stifle the moan as he ate. He had missed his mother's cooking and it was still warm, almost as if it were just off the stove.

"That's true. She had missed your letters because she was in Bulgaria covering a Quidditch marathon. Then, about two days ago, one of the other writers got hurt so now Mum's in France covering the Quiberon Quafflepunchers' qualifying match," James said, his mouth stuffed with food by that point.

"I understand. Mum's a busy woman. I told everyone that I did not want them to worry about getting back to me," Albus said after he swallowed his mouthful of potatoes before going through the other boxes to see what was inside.

"This is mum we're talking about," James said, huffing when Albus slapped his hand away, before continuing, "She was so upset that she couldn't visit you that she cooked you a banquet and made Lily, Dad and I vow to make sure we would deliver it to you with her love."

"That sounds like mum, doesn't it? But I do love her cooking."

"Oh yeah, that much is obvious."

Albus stopped eating as he glared over at his brother. "What is that supposed to mean?"

James was quiet for a few moments, clearly thinking how to best phrase his next words as the look on Albus's face was clearing warning him that those words might very well be his last. "Well, remember just before you were about to graduate from Hogwarts? I told you to find your own place quickly, but you said that you wanted to stay with mum and dad until you could get a job. Remember that?"

"Yes," Albus all but growled. He did not like where this was going.

"Yes, well, you got a _little _chubby from staying with mum and dad. No offense."

"What!" Chubby? Albus was never chubby a day in his life!

"Hey, it's true. Normally you've always been on the scrawny side, but you got a little soft around the edges staying at home for so long. People kept asking me if I had two younger brothers because no one believed you had already graduated. Not with _that _baby face."

Albus flushed. Alright, so there was a rather brief time in his life when he might have been a little on the chubbier side. It wasn't his fault. Between his mother and his grandmother and his aunts, it was hard to go a whole day without someone trying to get him to eat so he wasn't "so painfully skinny". "They couldn't have said that for long, though. I moved out a few years ago!"

"And became a twig for a while," James added, looking over at Albus, worry clear on his face. Albus hated it when James looked at him like that. "We are all really worried about you when you're on your own, you know. You have a habit of getting lost in your ... projects or what not. You don't take care of yourself."

"James..." Albus hated this conversation.

Now that James was on the topic, he did not seem willing to bow to his younger brother's obvious wishes. "I know being a teacher isn't exactly the fastest way of be a billionaire, but if you ever need some money, you know you could always ask me or dad, or anyone really."

"James," Albus said, his tone making it clear that his patience was running thin, "We are not having this conversation right now."

"Albus, it's just-"

"Change the subject, right now, before I get rather upset with you." James stopped trying to force the conversation as he looked over at Albus, the younger man having taken off his glasses and was wiping them clean quite vigorously. It was a clear sign that Albus had had enough.

"Fine, fine," James muttered with a sigh, covering up the food he had been eating. "But we have to talk about this eventually and you can't keep running away from it forever."

Albus visibly tensed and James was almost sure he had seen a look of fear cross his expression, but it was gone so soon James could not be sure. Albus shook his head a bit as he turned to rest back against the window sill. "I know. I am sorry I snapped at you. I just... this term has been a bit of a roller coaster for me."

"Is it Malfoy?"

That startled Albus. "W...what? Why would you even bring him up?" Albus tried to think back to the letters he had been sending his family since he arrived in California. He knew they generally were not interested in the Malfoys so he was almost certain that he had yet to mention Scorpius to them.

Albus' face looked so serious that James couldn't help but snicker. Reaching out, he ruffled his brother's naturally messy hair. "I know what you're thinking and, no, you hadn't mentioned he was here. I gathered as much only because his parents showed out of the blue before we were about to get on the plane."

"Is everything alright?" For the Malfoys to willingly visit his family something had to be very wrong with the fundamental workings of the universe.

James just shrugged. Unlike Albus, who had a vested interest in Scorpius, James didn't seem to care. "No idea. Dad and Mr. Malfoy talked about something in his study. Mrs. Malfoy asked if I would be so kind as to deliver something to her son. Scorpius might be a prat, but his mum is a nice lady." Crossing his arms, he shook his head, "He has no right to do what he's doing to his family."

Furrowing his brows, Albus looked at James, giving the story his full, undivided attention now. "What is it that he's been doing exactly?"

James answered with a huff. He always disliked Scorpius and he seemed particularly adverse to him now. "He's been ignoring them the last few weeks. He's got the audacity to just return every letter and gift they send him, completely unopened. His parents are worried sick about him, but he's being a complete bastard."

Albus winced at James' words. Scorpius must really be in more trouble than he had initially thought if he is actually ignoring his own family. Albus had been hurt when Scorpius had brushed him off so casually, but for a Malfoy to just ignore his parents like how Scorpius was doing, that was a clear sign of the danger Scorpius faced. Albus was sure of it. "He probably has good reason," Albus offered half-heartedly.

James always prided himself on being pretty perceptive when it came to reading his younger brother. As far as he was concerned, Albus might as well have been an open book. He was trying to hide something form him and James would wheedle it out of him. "What would you know about it?" Albus reached up for his glasses once more. "Look, I won't force you to tell me right now, but if you think Malfoy might be involved in something, you really should tell dad." James might have been able to read his brother's mannerisms, but that didn't mean he didn't have to tread lightly. Albus was prone to quick mood swings when he was feeling cornered.

"I can't, "Albus said mournfully, as he slumped back against the window.

"Albus," James said, reaching out to put his arm around Albus' shoulders, pulling him close, "hiding things won't save Scorpius if he needs help." Normally, Albus would have squirmed out of the touch by then, but instead, he just stayed where he was, James' arm around him.

Slowly, he looked up at James, looking like a child who had just been caught trying to pilfer sweets before dinner. "I was just hoping I could do this by myself."

James was shocked to hear such an honest and sincere answer from his brother. He had thought for years that Albus was a natural Slytherin. He was sly and clever, unlike James who tended to stumble into situations head first. Albus was supposed to be the smart one; he was supposed to be the strategist. James was almost proud that Albus was still capable of doing such a prideful thing. "You really are an idiot."

"You are too," Albus said as he tried to push James away from him, suddenly realizing how close they were, a light blush on his cheeks. He had revealed a lot more about himself to James than he normally would. It was a little embarrassing.

"Tell you what," James said, mercifully letting Albus out of the hug after letting him struggle for a few moments, "After I give him the present from his parents, I'll deck him one. Maybe two. One because he made his mum cry and another one because he made you cry," he explained, reaching out to pinch Albus' pink cheek.

Albus pulled away, looking unamused. "I'm not crying, James."

"Not right now, no. But I know you, Albus," James said triumphantly. If there was anyone in the world who did understand Albus, chances were it really was James. "You take a lot of stress, but when you get too frustrated, you explode. You cry when you get really mad."

"D-do not," Albus defended meekly, even though he knew that James was right, probably more than James realized.

"You need to learn to get in touch with your emotional side more, young Albus Severus," James said, attempting to sound like he were dispensing sage advice. "You know, show your frustration a little bit at a time instead of all at once."

Albus opened his mouth several times to offer some kind of argument, but he finally just closed his mouth. He had no argument to offer. For someone who was normally pig headed and stubborn, James had just said something rather insightful. "You have a point," Albus finally said, all at once, almost in a rush. If he didn't say it quickly, he might not have the will to say it at all.

"All I'm saying is-"James paused, Albus' words finally registering, "wait, did you just say I had a point? You...never say that." James glanced at his brother incredulously, almost as if Albus were playing a trick on him. He wouldn't put it past Albus, despite how unassuming he looked.

Albus, however, just shrugged. "Well, in this particular instance, you've got a good point, James," he clarified. He knew that too much praise from him would smack of insincerity, so for James' sake, he would have to reign it in.

There was silence between the two brothers before James finally spoke. "Huh. Alright." Silence fell on them once more, this time a little longer. "Not to, you know, sound like I don't believe you, but _how _exactly do I have a good point?"

Now Albus looked uncomfortable. He wanted to tell James, but he hated how the story made him seem like a child. "I'm beginning to think I have a bad temper. Scorpius and I have had some...disagreements the last couple of times I saw him."

"And what did you do?"

Albus sighed. He got embarrassed just thinking about what had happened, but he knew that if he were going to get it off his chest, he would actually have to tell his brother. "The first time I got mad, I _might _have thrown wine in his face. Expensive wine, probably." James was gawking at him with large eyes now, but Albus continued. "Then the second time, I got so upset with him that I slapped him. He's just been so intolerable lately."

James threw his head back and laughed at Albus's last comment. Now that was something the two of them could see eye-to-eye. "I'd have thought you'd be used to the Slytherin Prince's antics by now."

"That's the problem," Albus said quickly, almost as if he just realized something, "If he _were _more Slytherin, I'd never be frustrated with him. It's the fact his Gryffindor side is showing that is really beginning to bother me," Albus muttered, glancing accusingly at his brother, as if it were James' fault that Scorpius had taken to acting oddly.

"_Gryffindor side_?" Disbelief was all over James' face. Scorpius had many sides, most of which annoyed James to no end, but a Gryffindor side? The sun had a greater chance of having a dark side than Scorpius had of having a light side.

"Courage, selflessness...blind stupidity"

James puffed out his chest at that. Even if it were true, he still had to defend his pride. "Hey! I take offense to that!"

"Take offense all you want James, but it's true," Albus commented with a sly smile now. A part of him liked fighting with his brother. He had missed it since he had moved to California. "Scorpius of all people is doing such stupid things. I don't even know what to make of it." Albus' smile faced as he reached up, rubbing at his forehead before adjusting his glasses. "He's pushing me away at a time when the logical thing would be to gather as many allies as he can. Why can't he just...think?"

James opened his mouth to say one of the many Malfoy-related insults he had been thinking about, probably for years, but instead, he just grinned impishly. "I'll ask him that. After I punch his lights out for making you sad. No one gets to make my little brother feel worthless," he declared, throwing his arms around Albus once more, bringing him in close for a bone-crushing embrace.

"Except you," Albus corrected as he tried to wiggle out of the hug.

James nodded his head in agreement, not allowing Albus to move away from him this time. "Except me. But, we're family, so it's alright." Albus just rolled his eyes, thankful that James couldn't see his face.

* * *

><p>The three siblings had wandered the halls talking for nearly two hours before Albus heard James's and Lily's stomachs growling. He was still full from earlier, but he knew that if his brother and sister didn't eat sometime soon, they would complain loudly and often. If he took after their Aunt, the two of them definitely took after their Uncles. Leading them outside to the Quidditch field, Albus set out the food. Despite the time of year, the weather was incredibly nice. It was practically summer weather back where they were from.<p>

James and Lily ate ravenously, as if they had never seen food, but Albus wasn't too shocked. They always ate like that. He was sure some people would find that an endearing quality about them, but Albus just felt like their behavior made him seem like a mother hen in comparison. James, you're spilling all over yourself. Lily, don't talk with your mouthful. Both of you learn to chew properly. Do you want to choke on such a nice day? Albus probably should have been annoyed, and he certainly tried to pretend he was, but in reality, he had missed spending time like this with his brother and sister. They hadn't really been so carefree around each other in years. It felt like they were children once again, before any of them had started to go to Hogwarts.

Once they finished eating, James and Lily looked over at Albus expectantly. They didn't even need to ask for what they wanted, Albus already knew. Getting them a pair of older brooms from the Quidditch supply room, he laid down on the grass as he watched his brother and sister take off into the air. He enjoyed flying, but his brother and sister were too competitive for him. He preferred just flying around leisurely, enjoying the feel of the breeze through his hair, but James and Lily were constantly coming up with racing ideas and would make fun of him if he ever said he wasn't interested in participating. But it didn't matter. He liked watching them fly around, attentions completely devoted to their little races. Albus was always surprised how creatively the two of them could be when it came to cheating.

Albus was so lost in thought watching his siblings zip around in the sky above that he hardly noticed when someone took a seat beside him on the grass. It was only when he heard a familiar voice say, "Hello, Albus," did Albus sit up with a start.

Looking over at his father, he reached up to nervously adjust his own glasses. "Hi, dad," he muttered quickly before clearing his throat. "Er, how are you doing?"

"Rather well, thank you," Harry said pleasantly as he looked up, watching as James and Lily flew through the air, completely unaware of the two men on the grass. "Though I must admit, the plane ride was certainly a lot longer than I thought. It was pleasant, though."

"I was hoping you would like it," Albus said with a light smile. His father always did like new experiences and as far as he knew, Harry Potter had never been on a plane before.

"Ron was out of his mind with worry," his dad said with a chuckle, "Every time we would hit a little turbulence, he would start flailing around, crying out that we were going to all die. Hermione was certainly enjoying herself."

Albus laughed as well. His Uncle Ron was certainly an animated person. He could practically imagine his fear of being on an airplane. "So, she was enjoying herself watching Uncle Ron panic?"

"She tends to do that."

"I noticed." A comfortable silence now fell between father and son. It wasn't anything new. Many times, attempts at having a conversation between the two of them often ended up in silence. Luckily, Albus never seemed to mind, and if Harry did, he made no comment on the matter. In the silence, Albus had some space to think. He had been thinking about many things lately, but it seemed like it was never enough. Looking over at his father, Albus smiled lightly, "Ah, dad?"

"Yes?" Harry was looking over at his son, now. That was a quality of his father Albus would always respect. No matter how busy he was, no matter how otherwise distracted, if any one of his children wanted his attention, Harry would give it to them fully.

"Your advice the other day, thank you. It really helped to clear things for me." Albus looked away as soon as he said those words. He hoped his father didn't think he was being childish. When he felt his father ruffling his hair, he looked back to the older man in confusion.

"Of course, Albus. It's nice thinking that there are still things I can teach you," he said with a kind smile on his face.

This confused Albus. His father was constantly helping him with things. "What do you mean?"

For a few moments, Harry Potter was silent, trying to thinking of the best way to phrase when it was he wanted to say. He knew his son. One would have to phrase things very carefully or else Albus would over think things. "You aren't like your brother or sister. You're always very quiet and to yourself. You try to figure everything out on your own."

"Is...that not good?"

"Oh, no, don't get me wrong, Al," Harry said with his characteristic grin, "As a father, I'm thrilled that I was able to raise a son that can solve problems on his own logically and calmly." Seeing that the cloud of confusion didn't clear from Albus' face, he continued. "But as _your _father, sometimes I'm sad that you being so logical and capable means there's less for me to do to help you."

Albus was so shocked by his father's words that he laughed a lot louder than he had meant to initially. It was just a strange thought for his father to have. At least, in Albus' opinion it was. "Don't worry, dad. With how things have been going for me, I could use all the help I can get."

From the look on Harry's face, it was obvious that he wanted to question his son about many things. Albus was sure that Mr. Malfoy had probably said something to his father about Scorpius. After years of being an Auror, Harry was rather talented at reading people and Albus was hardly a closed book around his family. If Albus had been in his father's shoes, he knew full well that he would have become an inquisitor and would have grilled him for answers, wanting to know everything. He was surprised when his father didn't. "How have your classes been, Albus?" he asked instead, "I hope your students aren't being too terrible."

"Oh, no, they're pretty good," Albus blurted out, the change of topics having been sudden and rather unexpected. "They're just so energetic. I don't remember being like them when I was their age."

"I was," Harry said with a playful smirk. When Albus looked at him in surprise, he just laughed, "What? Believe me, I was quite the trouble maker when I was their age."

Thinking back, Albus supposed he had always figured as much. Over the years he had heard stories of all the trouble his father, aunt and uncle had gotten themselves into. It didn't mean it was any easier to accept that the savior of the world was anything other than saint-like his whole life. "Makes sense," he said lightly before he smiled over at his father," After all, James had to have gotten it from somewhere."

"Too right," Harry concurred as he patted Albus on the back, "I just thank Merlin you didn't turn out like me. I'd have gone completely gray years ago if I had three rambunctious children to deal with."

Albus chuckled. His father was already rather gray from all the stress over the years. If he had two James to deal with, he probably would have had a full head of white. "Well, in that case, you're welcome."

Harry just chuckled as he shook his head. He adored James, he always had, but raising someone so head strong and energetic had not been easy, even with a large group of adults willing to help. Come to think of it, even Lily had been just as difficult to raise. Compared to his oldest and his youngest children, Albus practically raised himself save for the occasional heart-to-heart in Harry's study. "So, Mr. Rutherford tells me that you're in charge of a dueling team?"

"Huh- oh yes!" Albus was smiling wider than Harry had ever seen him. It was obvious to Harry just how much pride his son had in his team. "We've been practicing a bit for the last few weeks. I think we've got a strong team. I've actually got practice with my team later this afternoon, if you'd like to come watch," Albus offered, looking over at his father hopefully.

It was now Harry's turn to look surprised. Albus was normally the first to insist he do everything on his own. He rarely wanted Harry involved with what he was doing, wanting to do everything by himself. "If that's alright with you, I'd love to."

Albus had seen the momentary look of surprise on his father's face, so he quickly explained, "It doesn't hurt to have a little insurance. With the great Potters teaching them, there's no wayKingstonwill beat them this weekend." That was mostly true, anyway. After learning how his father wished to be more involved with his life, inviting his father to dueling practice only seemed logical. A part of him was excited to actually let his dad see the good things in his life, not just his problems. "Oh! Dad, you will still be in town then, right? You have to come to the competition if you are. It's...amazing! This city really knows how to hold a proper tournament. It's nothing like Hogwarts."

Harry couldn't help but laugh as he saw just how excited his son was becoming. The younger man was practically beaming as he spoke of the tournament. He had been a little apprehensive about his son going abroad to work, but it seemed like his worries were certainly changed his son for the better, it seemed. "That sounds great! I'll be sure to take lots of pictures for your mother. She'll probably hex me if I don't."

"Sounds about right for mum," Albus said, nodding his head. Ginny Potter was not a woman one often wanted to cross.

* * *

><p>Early on the in the semester, Albus had had the students duel against each other and he had named the strongest the captain of the team. The students ranged from first to seventh year, so Albus had been a little surprised when Lucas had come out on top. Granted, the title of captain certainly did seem to fit the short fourth year. He was very approachable and loved to help the other students with their form and technique, often times teaching the younger students how to do advanced spells. He planned to win that year and it seemed he would do everything save for barefacedly cheating. Lucas planned to win and he planned to do so in the most dramatic way possible. Albus had tried telling him that there was no need to be so theatrical when dueling, but Lucas had promptly ignored him after that. It seemed it was the theatrics that kept Lucas confident, even against a more powerful opponent, so Albus finally relented.<p>

The rest of the team comprised of first-year Zoe Lopez; third-year Rika Yamamoto; her older brother, sixth-year Yousuke Yamamoto; seventh year Wisteria Johnson; and finally, Matthew. Albus had been a little surprised that Logan had not also joined the team, as the three of them were hardly ever seen apart. He had secretly been worried that the three of them had had a falling out as a result of Matthew and Lucas' growing relationship, but Lucas assured him that wasn't the case. Logan was actually the captain of the Potioneering team and couldn't really divert his attention across Potions, Quidditch _and _Dueling.

The six members of the dueling team were always rather excited about their practices, though it might have just been from the fact that they got the afternoon off in order to practice during the practices leading up to competitions. Albus knew for a fact that Potions was Lucas' least favorite class, so he would do just about anything to be allowed out of Harwood's class without repercussions. The students seemed particularly excited when Albus told them that his father, the head of the Auror's Office in the British Ministry of Magic would be leading that week's practices. All of the students, it seemed, except for Lucas.

While Harry would go from one pair to another, making sure that they were all keeping proper forms and holding up their defenses, Lucas took every opportunity to glare daggers into Albus. He made sure to be full of smiles whenever Harry looked his way, but as soon as his back was turned, Lucas was looking back at Albus, a deep set scowl on his face. Unable to take Lucas' intense gaze any longer, Albus and asked his father to take Lucas' place as Yousuke's partner. Harry readily agreed watching out of the corner of his eyes as Albus took Lucas to the side, speaking quietly with him.

"Er, what's the matter, Lucas?" Albus asked, not wanting to bother beating around the bush when it came to Lucas. "You've been glaring at me all practice."

Lucas, who had his arms crossed the whole time, suddenly let them drop to his side as he looked up at Albus. The expression on his face could only be described as an impudent pout. "Mr. Weasley is here and you didn't even tell me."

Albus laughed at that. He had been sure that he had done something to deeply hurt Lucas from the way the young boy was glaring at him for the last hour. "You mean my Uncle George?" Lucas nodded quickly. "Is that all? I thought I'd done something terrible!" Albus has glad to have the old Lucas back. He had not liked what the Boggart lesson had turned him into.

"You have!" Lucas practically shouted, looking much more upset now than he had before, "You know full well how much I've wanted to meet him in person, and now that he's here to visit you, you haven't even told me! I had to find out through the grape vine!"

Slowly, Albus stopped his laughter, though his smile remained across his face. "Actually, you're right. I do know," he said before he pulled a small envelope out of the breast pocket of his vest, handing it to Lucas. "That's why he's asked me to give you this."

Lucas looked at him in confusion for a moment before slowly opening the envelope, for a moment convinced it would explode in his face. Taking out a green piece of paper, he read through it quickly, his eyes widening. "Holy...shit!"

"Yes, I suppose that does sum it up," Albus said with a nod. He couldn't help but laugh as Lucas threw his arms around him and gave him a tight hug. "He's very interested in talking to you, Matthew and Logan about your inventions. I recommended a rather nice little cafe for your business meeting."

"You did?" Lucas asked, looking up at Albus, awe-struck. Albus was happy to see that Lucas was so easy to please.

"If you work hard the rest of the practice, I promise I'll let everyone out early so you can prepare for your meeting."

"Thank you!" Lucas practically screamed as he ran over to where Yousuke was, tucking the envelope into his back pocket. He thanked Harry for taking over, but he insisted on being Yousuke's partner once more. With Lucas being so excited about his meeting later that evening with George, poor Yousuke didn't stand a chance.

Harry walked over to Albus' side, both men watching the eager students dueling each other, none of them holding anything back. "You've got quite the way with these students, Albus," Harry said softly, reaching out to his a hand on Albus' shoulder. Albus reached up and nervously adjusted his glasses, able to feel as his cheeks warmed.

"It's nothing."

* * *

><p>"You can't be serious," Scorpius sneered as he turned around, seeing James Potter of all people walking towards him, a box in his hands, covered in green wrapping paper. It figured. Scorpius felt the weakest he had in years. Why not throw his least favorite Potter into his life at that very moment? Why the bloody hell not? "Why is it I get rid of one Potter just to have another one of you people pop up out of now where? You're like weeds."<p>

"Shut up, Malfoy," James snapped. Scorpius had not seen James since the older man graduated from Hogwarts, but it seemed that he had changed little over the years. "We need to talk. In private." It was nice to know that some people never changed.

"Fine. Come on." Scorpius could have complained. He could have threatened to call security or anything else, but in truth, he didn't want to deal with his broken supplies at the moment. He was sure James could provide a much needed distraction if nothing else. Turning on his heels, he walked away from the main school building towards the Quidditch field and into a large room by the equipment shed. Going over to a set of benches, he sat down, shoulders slumping forward.

"The Quidditch locker rooms?" James asked as he looked around, arching a brow. He didn't sit. Instead, he moved to stand close to Scorpius.

"You said you wanted privacy," Scorpius said, shrugging one shoulder, resting his injured hand on his lap. "Classes are in session now, but practices won't start for another four hours. I'm not about to take a strange man into my quarters. The students here do so love to gossip."

James just nodded his head as the conversation between them died. Scorpius couldn't say that he was particularly surprised. Even assuming James was capable of carrying a conversation, something Scorpius very much doubted, it wasn't as if either of them had much to say. In fact, why James would bother to come see him at all was confusing. Scorpius' gaze eventually landed on the box in his hands. He figured it had something to do with that box. James eventually caught the look from Scorpius and held the box out for him. "Here. It's from your mum."

Taking the box, Scorpius muttered a soft "Thank you." He set the box beside him. He would probably just send it back later.

"Oh, and this is for you too." Before Scorpius could say anything, James drew his fist back. If Scorpius' good arm had not been hunt, he would have moved faster to defend himself. As it were, James' fist connected with his face so hard that he flew back off of the benches, landing hard against the lockers, sliding to the ground, his long legs still over the metal bench. Scorpius was groaning as his head swam. James reached over and grabbed him by the shirt collar, pulling him back to his seat, making a dramatic show of dusting Scorpius off, even as blood leaked out of his nose. "But that one is all from me."

"The hell was that for!" Scorpius choked out as he put his hand in his robes, digging for is wand. Remembering that he no longer had his wand, he withdrew his hand and gently brought the sleeve of his robes up to his face, wiping at the blood. He would go to the infirmary later. A part of him wanted to give James a matching black eye, but he almost instantly thought against it. Unlike James, he was wandless and the years had been much kinder to James than they had been to Scorpius. He was taller now and all those years post-Hogwarts he had stayed with Quidditch showed. Just by looking at James, Scorpius knew he should consider himself lucky. That punch had practically been a love tap. If James actually put his full strength behind it, he could have shattered Scorpius' nose.

James didn't even notice Scorpius' unusual actions, not that he was ever the most perceptive when it came to people who weren't a part of his immediate family. He just crossed his arms as he glared down at Scorpius. "It's for the fact you've been acting like an ass to everyone around you and you know it."

Scorpius just sighed. The blood was already reduced to a trickle. His nose was sensitive and he flinched whenever he touched it, but it didn't feel broken at least. "First your brother slaps me and now you punch me? What, do I have a target on my face?" he muttered, shoulders slumping forward. Scorpius suddenly felt more exhausted than he had in a week.

"What can I say? You just have one of those faces," James said with a grin, flopping down on the bench beside Scorpius. Grabbing the box, he opened up the wrapping paper. Scorpius figured he couldn't send it back now. Inside, there were some rather expensive handmade chocolates. James whistled a bit as he opened the box and popped one of the chocolates into his mouth. Scorpius had not planned to eat the chocolates himself, but the fact that James was eating them, uninvited, still annoyed him.

"You're a bastard," Scorpius growled, reaching to grab the box away from James, but the other man was quicker. He pulled the box away, but put a single chocolate in Scorpius' hand. Not wanting to just hold the chocolate until it melted, yet not being able to bear throwing something his parents got for him away, he eventually put it in his mouth. It tasted lightly of raspberries. He loved it. He hated how it made him feel. He hated all the happy memories it brought. Slumping forward, Scorpius put his face in his hands, the last of chocolate lingering in his mouth, a sweet reminder of the mess in which he found himself.

"So who's the woman?" James asked, breaking the silence.

The question had taken Scorpius by such surprise that he just turned his head a bit, looking up at James as if the man had grown an additional head. He had to have misheard. "What?"

"In my experience, whenever someone starts lashing out at his mates and his family, it's almost always because of a woman." James flashed Scorpius a lewd smile now. "What's her name?"

James really was as stupid as Scorpius had thought. He had to be. There was no other explanation for why James would suddenly show up out of the blue after several years, deliver some expensive chocolates from his mum, punch him in the face, and then ask if Scorpius was suffering from lady troubles. Hell, Scorpius had been present for the entirety, but the moment seemed more like a sick joke than reality. "None of your bloody business, Potter."

"Oh, so there _is _a woman," James reasoned triumphantly. "Should I tell your mum to be expecting a happy invitation sometime soon?"

"Shut up, Potter. It's not like that," Scorpius groaned. He was starting to miss Albus now more than ever. The younger Potter might have looked at him with naive eyes, but he at least knew the healing properties of blissful silence. James on the other hand...

"What's she like?" ...Had no idea when to just shut up.

And instead of finding that to be an insufferable quality, Scorpius found himself opening up to his former enemy. It might have something to do with the fact that he was sure that James' circle and his own would never mingle or that James would be returning home soon enough, but Scorpius didn't feel like being particularly as well guarded as he normally was. Then again, it might have more to do with the fact that his nose was smashed and _something _in his hand was definitely broken. "Can I be honest?"

"If you think you can be without bursting into flames, then yes." Scorpius actually laughed with James at that. Yes, Scorpius was definitely on the verge of psychosis.

"She's a complete _bitch,_" Scorpius said, voice almost a whisper, leaning closer to James as he reached out, sneaking another chocolate. That one tasted like oranges and crème. He instantly regretted sending back all the other sweets his parents had sent him over the last few weeks. One of their best qualities was being excellent judges of the quality of sweets.

"Well...that's incredibly honest," James said, looking surprised for a moment. He had been sure that Scorpius had found his future Mrs. Malfoy and that had been the reason he had been blowing off his parents and Albus. "So I take it she's not a girlfriend?"

Scorpius just snorted as he grabbed another piece of chocolate. "I'd rather sleep with a troll," he huffed, licking at the sprinkles before biting into it. It tasted a lot like coffee, but it had the slight aftertaste of ...some kind of alcohol. What the hell was in that? Kahlua?

While Scorpius was busy trying to pinpoint the flavor of the chocolate, James continued. "So dump her and move on! What's the problem?"

"That's what I hate about you," he said, annoyed, before tossing the remainder of the chocolate into his mouth. He tried to go for another piece, but James pulled the boxy away from him, effectively cutting him off from his own present. "You over simplify things."

"No, you just over-complicate things," he corrected before handing the box over to Scorpius. He never struck James as someone with a sweet tooth. It was always the person one would least suspect, James supposed. While Scorpius debated which piece to have next, James continued. "Just break things up with her like you obviously want to, go beg Albus for his forgiveness, and then send your parents a sodding owl thanking them for putting up with your stupid antics."

Slowly, Scorpius sighed. Taking the box lid, he slipped it back over the chocolates, setting the box between them. "You have a point."

"...Come again." James could hardly believe his ears. The two people in the world least likely to ever concede a point to him had done so, both, in the same day. Either James was on an incredible winning streak that day, or it was a terrible sign that the world was not as it should be.

"I said 'you have a point'," Scorpius repeated before he stood up, stretching slightly, his body sore from hitting the lockers so hard just a few minutes prior. "Look at me. I'm an adult, but I've been acting like some teenager. Maybe things won't be bad if I just face the consequences."

"It has to be better than what you're going through now, right?"

"There is that," Scorpius said thoughtfully as he turned, looking out of the window, out towards the school. James looked up at him the whole while, unable to look away as he watched the worry lines disappear from Scorpius's expression. Without all of the tension and worry on his face, Scorpius actually looked quite handsome. Feeling James' gaze on him, Scorpius turned to look at him in confusion," What? Why are you staring at me?"

James flushed. He hadn't realized he had been staring so hard at Scorpius. "Can...I ask you something?"

Scorpius just shrugged, giving James a grin. "If you think you can manage to string the sentence together, then yes."

"Haha, very funny," James muttered, rolling his eyes. Scorpius did always love to be witty. With a sigh, he continued. He felt stupid bringing up such an old topic, but it was something that had been bothering him for years. "Do you ever think about the last time we saw each other?"

Scorpius looked back towards the Quidditch field. The last time they had seen each other? When exactly had that been? Suddenly, memories flooded back to him and his face flushed despite himself. "What, you mean after your last Quidditch game back at school?"

"Yeah," James muttered, not even bothering to meet Scorpius' gaze.

"Not really," he answered quickly, shrugging. It wasn't a complete lie. He almost never thought about it.

"But, we-"

"We were teenagers who had been at each other's throats for years," Scorpius was quick to interject. "Something like that was bound to happen. So no, I had pretty much forgotten about it as soon as it happened." Except for a handful of times through the years.

"Well, thanks," James sighed. He should have known. It had been something that bothered him since it happened, but he figured Scorpius wasn't the type of person to let something so insignificant haunt him. He was happy that Scorpius hadn't been agonizing over what had happened, even though sometimes he himself did. It was just that he hadn't realized until then that a part of him was disappointed that Scorpius didn't think of that day. "You know just what to say."

"Sorry. I don't make it a habit to lie just to spare someone's feelings," Scorpius said easily, as he reached out to grab the box of chocolates, intending to leave soon. "Kissing you was like kissing a first year Hufflepmmphhh-" Scorpius managed to mumble out from behind James' hand. At the mention of kissing, James had jumped to his feet like a shot and covered Scorpius' mouth, a fearful look on his face. Scorpius, uncomfortable with James' sudden closeness pushed him away with his good arm. "What's the big idea?" he spat out, glaring at James now, ready to jump away if James decided to rush him again.

"Don't say it so loud," James begged, desperation heavy in his voice as he glanced around, "That we..."

Realizing now just what had made James react so violently, Scorpius groaned. What was it with the Potter family? "Kissed? Oh god, all you Potters really are the same," he muttered, under his breath as he shook his head. Albus always liked to pretend he and James were so different, but Scorpius was beginning to realize just how similar they really were.

"What's that supposed to mean?" James as, narrowing his eyes as he looked at Scorpius. Even though he didn't openly accuse Scorpius of doing anything, he didn't have to. Scorpius could read it on his face.

And it was a conversation he was not about to have with James Potter in the middle of a Quidditch locker room, after being manhandled. "Forget about it. Look, I have to go," he said, adjusting his robes as he regained his normal composure. He glanced at one of the mirrors out of the corner of his face. He had a rather nice bruise forming on his eye. "I trust you can find your way back to Peppertongue," he said quickly as he moved to walk past James, towards the door.

James reached out to grab a hold of Scorpius' left arm. When the younger man gasped and brought his bandaged arm up to his chest, James let go, taking a step back. He had been so angry with Scorpius earlier that he hadn't even noticed how he was cradling his arm the whole time. "You _are _going to be fine, right?" He asked softly, looking at him apologetically. It was not an expression he had ever worn around Scorpius before and it was unsettling to the blond.

"Yes," Scorpius said, trying to appear unfazed regardless of how unnerved he was actually feeling. "I'll end ..." he trailed off for a moment, struggling to find the appropriate words, but failing, "whatever it is I have with her. Hopefully Albus won't want to punch me as well if I ask for his forgiveness."

James nodded his head approvingly before he gave Scorpius a wry smile. "So, it's 'Albus' now?"

Scorpius tensed for a moment before he chuckled. Albus had always been 'Albus' in his mind. Thinking about it now, he did always seem to call him 'Potter' as if they were strangers, ever since he saw him again. Albus had never corrected him and Scorpius hadn't even realized what he was doing. "It always was," he said nonchalantly, returning the smile before he turned to walk out of the locker rooms, box of expensive chocolates in hand. He could think of Albus later. At that moment, Scorpius had to decide his next move.

Speaking with James made Scorpius realize just how much of a toxic figure Belrose was in his life, but getting rid of her was easier said than done. But he had to do it. He was sick and tired of being her lap dog. Whatever the consequences, they had to be better than what the life he was living.

* * *

><p>"Of course, Logan," Lucas said with a wide grin. Reaching out, he snatched Matthew's glasses, slipping them on in order to seem more credible. "This is our stuff you're talking about. Considering how many hours we've put into it, can you blame him? Hell, we amaze me sometimes," he snickered.<p>

Matthew just chuckled as he rolled his eyes, letting Lucas wear his glasses. He had taken to stealing them since finding out they weren't actually prescription. Lucas had declared it punishment for making him thinking that Matthew was practically blind with how protective the older boy used to be with them. "You're only saying that because you've got quite the ego, Lucas," Matthew said with a light shrug.

"Hohoho, perhaps you have a point, Mr. Matthew," Lucas conceded, mimicking Albus in tone and mannerism as he pushed the glasses up the bridge of his nose. That earned a laugh from Logan and Matthew. Their Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor was quickly becoming their favorite teacher and as a result, he was often imitated privately in the group. It was all good-natured ribbing.

"Ah, crap!"Logan suddenly called out as he stopped dead in his tracks, shoving his hands in his pockets, trying to look for something. "I forgot something at the cafe."

"What did you forget?" Matthew asked, looking over at his friend worriedly.

"...my Remembrall,"Logan muttered, his cheeks turning pink.

"Oh god, are you serious?" Lucas groaned as he grabbed a hold ofLogan's arms, turning him around and pushing him back towards Dragons Camp. "Go. We'll meet up with you for Practice," he insisted, waving as he watched Logan running down the hill. "Logan, I swear to god," he said with a sigh, shaking his head. "It's amazing how good he can be in his studies but still be so..."

"Lucas, you're one to talk," Matthew said with a laugh, pushing at Lucas lightly before the two boys walked towards the top of the hill, walking side-by-side.

"Guess you're right," Lucas agreed with a snicker as he rubbed the back of his head. For a long while, the two of them walked in silence, either having anything to say, but both enjoying to relaxing silence. Lucas turned his head to ask Matthew if he still had his notes from his fourth year potions class when he noticed that Matthew had been watching him rather than the road in front of them. "What? You're looking at me all weird..."

Realizing that he had been staring, Matthew blushed as he looked away. "It's just...I've been meaning to ask you something."

Lucas smirked. Reaching out, he slipped his arms around Matthew's. Leaning up, he practically purred against the nape of the older boy's neck. "Are you going to ask me to do something illegal?"

Matthew shuddered for a moment, feeling Lucas' warm breath against his neck, before he looked at him sharply, shock on his face. "What? No! Lucas, you're a pervert sometimes. God."

"Heh, sorry," Lucas snickered as he let go of Matthew, walking a few steps ahead now, letting his companion try to catch up to him. "I think I'm starting to pick up on this 'love' thing. Also, you are just _really _fun to mess with. What is it you wanted to ask?"

Matthew's steps slowed down at the question. Lucas knew that stance. He was starting to lose his nerves. "We leave for Christmas break next week. Would you," his voice becoming just a little louder than a whisper, "like to come visit at some point?"

Now it was Lucas' turn to look shocked. In all the years he had been coming to Peppertongue, no one had ever invited him for the holidays. In fact, no one had ever invited him for the holidays even before he attended Peppertongue, though that was more understandable. Lucas wasn't sure how to respond. "R...really? You wouldn't mind it?" He smiled nervously before shaking his head when he realized his own words, "No, that's stupid. Of course you wouldn't. This is you we're talking about."

"I just figured, you know, since we're..." Matthew trailed off, trying to figure out the right word, "together now, it would be nice to spend some time together... outside of school."

Lucas could feel his pulse quicken. Were his cheeks getting warmer? He was fairly sure they were. It was a strange feeling, but not entirely unwelcome. Willing his body to relax, he gave Matthew the most relaxed smile he could manage. "This isn't a trick to get me to meet your parents, is it?"

Matthew just laughed as he held up his hand defensively. "Yup. You got me."

"Good," Lucas said approvingly. "I'd love to be able to finally meet them in person. I should definitely try my best to impress them."

"Just be yourself," Matthew assured him, "they'll love you."

"I'll trust that you'll make _sure _they love me," Lucas added as he took a step towards Matthew. Taking off the glasses he had been wearing, he leaned forward to slip the glasses back onto Matthew.

Reaching out, Matthew took advantage of the closeness and slipped his arms around Lucas' waist, pulling him a bit closer. "I promise," he assured him. Lucas looked up at Matthew, grey eyes meeting Matthew's brown ones. Lucas thought Matthew would kiss him. Matthew wondered if he should. Instead, Matthew turned his head to the side as he asked, "So, are you going to be staying with Rutherford again?"

Lucas could almost feel a twinge of disappointment, but that soon faded as his smile returned. "Nope! My mom's taking me with her on her trip! It's been years since we last spent time together. Oh, but don't worry," he assured, seeing Matthew's smile falter, "I'll get away for a few days to meet up with you."

"Are you sure?" Matthew asked worriedly, moving his arm away from Lucas. "I know how rare it is for your mom to spend time with you. If you want, we don't have to meet during the break."

"No, I want to. Don't act so meek, it doesn't suit you," he said softly. Matthew had been like that for as long as Lucas had known him. He always backed down too easily. "Come on, if we don't hurry up, we might miss curfew," he said with a laugh. Matthew opened his mouth to say something, but Lucas reached out and took a hold of his hand. That effectively made Matthew forget what it was he was about to say and just smile instead. For a few minutes, Lucas was practically leading Matthew up the hill, pulling his arm, but eventually, he slowed into a more leisurely pace.

Side-by-side the two boys walked, their clasped hands swinging slightly between them.

* * *

><p>Since the fiasco with Albus several weeks ago, Belrose had gone out of her way to make sure Scorpius knew just where he stood with her. When her verbal threats were not enough, she had her "associates" clear up any misunderstandings Scorpius might have had. In fact, it was the bald man who stood to her left that had so graciously broken Scorpius's hand in two places just two days prior. He had refused to see the doctor about it, not wanting to explain why there were bruises in the shape of finger marks on his arm.<p>

It wouldn't have been too bad if Belrose hadn't also taken away his wand. Almost as if to tease him, she had casually set his wand in the middle of the table. It had no wards on it, no traps, but he didn't dare reach for it. There was no magic preventing him from reclaiming what was his, but he knew that if he dared to move out of turn, she would not hesitate to administer the "appropriate punishment".

Taking a sip of her red wine, Belrose leaned forward as she smiled sweetly. Reaching out, she stroke down Scorpius' pale cheek. "Scorpius, you've hardly touched your meal," she said, her voice filled with faux-concern. Scorpius doubted the woman was even capable of being sincerely worried for another person. "You look so sickly. You used to be _so handsome_," she murmured, running her thumb along his bottom lip. When she pressed against the bloodied split in his lip, he winced, but did not pull away. He had forgotten to pull out her chair for her earlier and the brunette who stood to her right had delivered a swift blow to his face before he even realized what he had forgotten to do.

The constant punishment was beginning to show on Scorpius, no matter how much he had tried to hide it. Belrose used to deliver punishments herself. She used to take quite a lot of joy in doing so. But ever since Albus made his dislike for her known, she had delegated Scorpius' "education" to her associates. She would always stay close by, just to make sure they didn't go over-board and actually kill him, he laughed at the idea, but she let him know that she didn't think he was worthy of her personal attention any longer.

Scorpius couldn't wait for her to go back to the capital. She had been in Dragons Camp, checking up on the three schools for the last few weeks and having her constantly around was wreaking havoc on Scorpius' nerves. But he would only need to put up with it for a little longer. That was her last night in town. She would be leaving soon. She couldn't stay longer. She actually had other obligations besides making Scorpius wish he were dead.

"If you want to ignore me, fine," she said lightly, moving her hand away, holding it out for the bald man beside her to wipe the blood from it. "Won't you at least tell me who left that beautiful bruise on your face? I should get them to work for me. I like their work. "

Scorpius froze at that, his eyes moving down to his own food. He was starving, but he knew better than to eat anything the woman gave to him. He had learned that after the first time the two of them had had dinner years ago. She had such offense to the fact he was left handed that she had upturned the table, suddenly flying into an uncontrollable rage. Before Scorpius even had a chance to reach for his wand, she had hexed him into submission. She had tortured him so badly that he had emptied the contents of his stomach all over her dining room floor before dissolving into broken sobs.

She had saved his life in Siberia, but he was beginning to regard that as more of a curse than a blessing as of late. He took a steady, deep breath, closing his eyes. He had to steel himself for what he was about to do. James's words were ringing in his ears and Albus's face was flashing before his eyes. Being around those two, as insufferable as it felt at time, made him remember just how sweet freedom tasted. He had promised himself he wouldn't see Albus again until he was free of Belrose and be was already beginning to miss his only friend.

"Casandra," he said, voice trembling, fingers grasping at the table cloth as the woman looked at him in surprise, long slender fingers stroking the red jewel than always hung around her neck. As she cocked her head, he continued, "I think we need to talk."

* * *

><p>To celebrate his family's first night inCalifornia, Albus had taken them out to the local pub, inviting the other teachers to join as well. The whole group had spent the whole night eating, drinking and dancing: Albus was thrilled to have his family so close to him again, his relatives were excited about experiencing a new country and the teachers were always looking for an excuse to party. None of them seemed to care that the following morning was still technically a school day. Granted, it was an abbreviated class schedule due to the fact it would be the Friday before a large inter-school competition, but there would still be some classes. It didn't seem to matter to most of the other teacher, who all assured Albus that had taught their fair share of classes completely hung over in the past.<p>

Albus had done his best to not drink too much, knowing full well how horrendous his hangovers were the last few times he had had a little too much to drink, but after Huerta assured him he had a perfect cure for handovers, Albus forgot his worries. After around Albus' seventh shot of bourbon, Huerta had confessed that there was no such cure, but by then, Albus was far too drunk to really care. Instead, he had ordered another round of drinks.

It was nearly four in the morning before the whole group, stumbled back to the school. Albus had said goodnight to his family, and returned to his bedroom only when his aunt Hermione, ever the responsible adult, promised to help his drunken father and uncles to their own rooms. James, used to drinking like he would never get another chance to do so, managed to stagger towards the guest room he was sharing with Lily.

A light knocking on his door woke him up the next day, at around seven in the morning. He groaned out what he hoped sounded like "give me a second" in some kind of human language as he hoisted himself out of his bed. He didn't yet have a hangover which meant that he was probably still a little drunk. He was thankful that classes wouldn't start until noon. Quickly slipping on a shirt, he went over to the door, half expecting to see Lucas, Matthew and Logan. The three boys had joked about waking him up bright and early after they found out that he would be out with his friends and family the previous night.

The scathing remarks that were forming fizzled when Albus opened the door and was greeted by a blond, just not the one he had been expecting. "What in Merlin's name happened to you?" Scorpius stood in front of Albus, looking very much like he had been mauled by a Hippogriff. He was sporting two black eyes and his nose was bandaged. Scorpius' lip was split in three places and he had bandages wrapped around his head. He had a horrible gash on the side of his head, the gauze slightly pink. The horrified look on Albus' face only grew as he continued to look at Scorpius. His left arm hung in a sling and his right hand was wrapped up. He wore only a thin, sleeveless shirt, white bandages just barely visibly underneath, wrapped around his chest. He had been able to drape a jacket around his shoulders to try and retain some semblance of dignity, but he still looked like he had been hit by a train.

"Hello to you, too," Scorpius croaked out with the best facsimile of a laugh he could manage. He acted as if standing before Albus, after several weeks of ignoring him, covered in injuries was the most normal thing in the world. "I would have been here a lot earlier, but that doctor who works here, what's his name, Huerta, he dragged me to his office as soon as I walked into the building. Does he manhandle every patient?" He asked before Albus suddenly grabbed a hold of one of his upper arms and dragged him into his room.

Scorpius was far too exhausted to protest. He half expected Albus to punch him or to at least laugh at him. He had been absolutely horrible to him the past few months. He kept his gaze on the floor as Albus took him over to his desk and sat him down in his chair. Albus looking him over like his mother used to do after he would get a little scraped up from playing in the gardens. Scorpius had just started to say he was sorry for how he had treated Albus when Albus suddenly threw his arms around his neck and hugged him as tightly as he dared to, being mindful of Scorpius' injuries. "I'm so happy to see you Scorpius."

Rather than pull away, Scorpius just sighed softly as he rested his cheek against Albus, moving his free arm to lightly snake around him. "What, in bandages?" he asked, trying his best to lighten the mood. Very little was said between them, but Scorpius could hear the solemnity in Albus' voice.

Pulling away from the hug, Albus shook his head, giving a shaky laugh. "J-just, at all," he said, looking down at Scorpius, a miserable expression hiding just behind his forced smile. Scorpius felt his shoulders slump as he looked up at Albus, watching as the man tried his best to fight back against the tears that were forming. It was the first time Scorpius had ever seen Albus brought to tears for any reason other than frustration. He hated that he had been the cause.

He had been so blind. Scorpius had honestly thought that he could keep Albus happy if Scorpius could just make Albus hate him. He saw now that all he managed to do was make Albus worry unnecessarily for his sake. Reaching out, he softly ruffled Albus' hair before moving his bandaged hand down, gently cupping his cheek. "I'm sorry for how I've been acting. I've been a total idiot. You would have thought I would have learned the first time." Scorpius had been alone for so long, it seemed he had forgotten what it meant to have a friend.

"Yes, you have," Albus agreed, blinking away the tears as he regained his composure. He made no effort to move away from Scorpius' touch. A part of him worried he was still sleeping. Having Scorpius back seemed too good to be true, even if he looked like he had been beaten within an inch of his life.

"I just, I just got in over my head," he assured, drawing his hand away. "I just needed some time to think of what I could do to get myself some help."

"Are you going to be alright?" Albus finally asked. He had wanted to ask that since he first saw Scorpius at his door, but he had been too afraid to do so.

"Yes. I look worse than I actually am."

"Did she..." he trailed off when his voice cracked, "Did she do this to you?"

Scorpius momentarily debated whether or not to speak the truth. Finally he nodded. "All things considered, I think I got off pretty light," he said, intentionally keeping his explanations vague. He didn't want to burden Albus more than he already was. "Though, she left to return to the State Council a few hours ago. Thank god she's gone, but once she gets there, she'll probably start making trouble for me."

"Trouble?" Albus asked curiously. The woman was as dangerous as a viper. He assumed everything about her was trouble from the moment he met her.

"She's on the board of trustees for Zenbazi," Scorpius explained, "It'll only be a matter of time before she gets me fired."

"But how?"

"It doesn't matter. I wouldn't have to worry if only I had a Potter's natural charm," Scorpius said as he smiled up at him.

Albus could tell that Scorpius was deflecting his question, but he blushed anyway at the compliment. "I'm hardly charming, but... I think I've got an idea for you."

"Oh, really?" Scorpius asked curiously. He had mostly come to just apologize to Albus before going back to Zenbazi and waiting for his termination notice.

"Harwood."

"You're doing that thing again..."

Albus blushed even brighter. He really did need to remember to not blurt ideas without the proper context. He just looked mad when he did so. "Professor Harwood. He teaches potions here. He's retiring as soon as the school can find a replacement," he said before he flashed Scorpius a wide grin, "Why don't you just quit before they can fire you, then work here?"

"That's..."Scorpius had stated to tell Albus that the idea was impossible, but he stopped. Why exactly was it impossible? For the life of him, Scorpius couldn't think of a reason why it wouldn't work. Peppertongue, being a public school, didn't have a governing committee and while Belrose might have sway, it certainly wasn't enough to get the whole of the Education Council on her side. After all, Scorpius was more than a well-qualified professor. For him to actually choose to work at Peppertongue with his credentials, the school would practically beg to keep him. Then there was the fact he practically owned the school now. That was something that Scorpius had almost completely forgotten. "...actually a good idea."

Albus practically smirked. "I know. That's why I suggested it."

"Goodness, Potter, I leave you alone for a few weeks and suddenly you're all grown up," Scorpius teased as he reached out, pinching at Albus' side. Albus laughed as he swatted at his hand, going over to the bathroom to change quickly.

Returning a few minutes later, having changed out of his pajamas into his casual clothes, he went over to Scorpius, helping him out of the chair. He led him out of the room, still holding his arm. "Come on, Scorpius," he said when Scorpius started falling behind.

"Where are we going?" Scorpius asked, voice full of apprehension. It was still early morning and most of the students were still sleeping in their dorms, but Scorpius didn't like the idea of walking all over campus looking like he had lost a fight rather badly.

"To talk to Mr. Rutherford," Albus said plainly, looking over his shoulder to give Scorpius an actual smirk, "For now, pretend that you have, what was it that you called it, 'a Potter's natural charm'. This is probably going to be your job interview."

**TBC**


	7. Is there anything you cannot do?

**Author's Note: [07/06/2012] Edited for grammar and some continuity things. Not to much changed in this chapter. In any case, happy reading!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

**"Is there anything you cannot do, Scorpius?"**

* * *

><p><em>A metallic taste welled in his mouth. Scorpius spat on the dirty stone floor. Even in the dim light, he could see the blood. He had lost a tooth sometime during his last fight. Or was it the one before that? He was losing track of time. How many times had he been drug out to the makeshift arena already?<em>

_He shivered and wrapped his arms around himself as tightly as he could; he shook so hard that it hurt. Outside, snow was falling. Scorpius could see the white flakes falling through the bars of the only window in the room. It was too small and far too high to provide him with any means of escape. The room, the prison, was only slightly more than two metres across. As if compensating for its paltry width, it was incredibly tall; the small window to the outside world nearly four metres above his head._

_He had tried screaming through it when he was first thrown in, but he doubted that there was even anyone outside to hear his weak cries. All the window did was give him false hope of being rescued, and if that were not enough, probably the beginnings of pneumonia. Snow fell into the cell from outside. There was no bed, no sink, nothing. Just four dirty walls and an even dirtier floor. There was a metal door across from where he sat, under the window, but it was covered in what Scorpius could only assume was old, caked blood._

_The people who had grabbed him unceremoniously off the streets of Krasnoyarsk had done so in broad daylight, following the end of a heavily attended Quidditch game. Scorpius had remembered attending the game with his tutor, Pyotr Astafyev. He even vaguely remembered why they had taken time away from their potions laboratory to go and watch a game at all; Scorpius had recently completed the last of his tests under Astafyev's tutelage and would be gaining the title of Potion Master in less than two months._

_He remembered leaving the stadium and heading towards the location of their Portkey. He recalled hearing Astafyev asking what restaurant Scorpius wanted to visit that night in thick, broken English. Then Scorpius saw red and felt a sharp pain in the back of his neck. When he came to, a burly man was carrying him over his broad shoulders. The man smelled like mud and rotting flesh. He had tossed Scorpius into the tiny room without explanation. He left Scorpius there for what_ _felt like hours. At some point, Scorpius had managed to drift off to sleep._

_When he awoke, he tenderly touched the back of his head. It was covered in dried blood. He winced as he felt the wound on his head, wanting to see if anything was cracked. Suddenly, his blood ran cold and he began to search desperately. _

_His wand. They had taken his wand._

_For the first time in his life, Scorpius felt completely vulnerable. His wand had never left his side since he_ _had turned eleven, half a lifetime ago. It was around then that the metallic door swung open, and a man_ _drenched in grime and blood stood there, as monstrous as any troll or giant Scorpius had ever read about in Professor Hagrid's class._

_Scorpius was unable to help the tremble that ran through him_ _as he looked up from his spot on the ground. The man wore what looked to be a part of a human skull over his face, obscuring his eyes. He said something then. When Scorpius, unable to understand him, did not move, the man reached out and grabbed him by the scruff of his collar. He pulled Scorpius down the dank halls, lined with metal doors matching the one from his own room on either side. How many other people were trapped in there as he had been? Many, he was sure, from the sounds of crying and begging._

_Moments later, Scorpius was thrown into a dirt arena. Metres above him, surrounding him on all sides, were hundreds of masked men and woman. Their sickening laughs and cackles made him feel uneasy. He stumbled around as the bright lights glaring down on him were disorienting. He suddenly felt like a trapped animal. He had screamed out for someone to explain to him where he was, to return his wand, but if someone answered him, it was in a language he did not understand._

_Scorpius did not have to pace around for long. The wrought iron doors swung open and another man was suddenly pushed inside, just as Scorpius had been mere minutes ago. The man met Scorpius' gaze, both men looked at each other with fear and confusion. He looked to be in his thirties. He was_ _probably someone's father. The man spoke, his words almost a trill. He was French. Scorpius suddenly wished he had bothered to learn when his father had tried teaching him when he was younger. As it was, he only picked up a single phrase: "Aidez-moi!"_

Help me_._

_Soon, silence fell upon the crowd. The large giant of a man stood up, two clubs in his hands as he grinned wildly, looking from Scorpius to the sobbing man beside him. With a loud, wolfish laugh, he tossed the filthy clubs into the arena below. The older man howled in fear as he backed away, looking at the clubs suspiciously before glancing up at the obvious ring leader in confusion. Scorpius never once lifted his gaze from where one club laid by his feet. He could see blood on it. He knew what they were meant to do even before hearing the explanation._

"_You_ _veen, you_ _go," the man had instructed, almost sweetly_ _in his thick accent, before the whole crowded exploded with thunderous applause. When neither man_ _moved towards the weapon, two other men stepped forward, strange machines slung around their shoulders. It took Scorpius a moment before he recognized them as rifles. He was trapped in a Muggle's game._

_Like a shot, the older man went to grab onto his club, looking at Scorpius with a mad frenzy in his eyes. Scorpius knew that familiar expression. The man before him really did have something worth living for, something worth killing for. Unfortunately for him, Scorpius did as well._

_Killing a man was much easier than Scorpius had ever imagined it would be, or at the very least, should be. He figured he was just in shock. It was only long after he brought his club down on the screaming man, wood and bone splintering with a squelch, did Scorpius realize just what he had done. He was sure he had just widowed and orphaned some unsuspecting family. And yet, he felt no regret. No remorse. He could not afford to do so._

_He found himself in a den of violent Muggles with no wand. He would fight his way to freedom, no matter the cost. He could seek forgiveness later._

_Match after_ _match, Scorpius fought. Some of the men he fought took pleasure in the bloodshed;_ _others dropped to their knees and pleaded with Scorpius to spare their lives. They begged for mercy that Scorpius could ill afford to give them. He steeled himself as best he could and killed them as quickly as he could manage with whatever weapon he was given for that match-sometimes a club, sometimes a hatchet._

_After each round, Scorpius was dragged back to his cell to collect his thoughts and to formulate an escape plan. All he managed to do, however, was to deduce how many prisoners there were. He figured it was something at least. Cells that had occupants had latches to the left. Empty rooms all had latches to the right. In this way, Scorpius could figure out how many more matches he had left. It soon proved useless as this was not a proper tournament. Combatants were pulled out whenever the audience called for them. _

_Unfortunately, Scorpius seemed to be a favorite._

_He soon grew numb to the whole situation. He took no pleasure in what he had to do, but he no longer felt the urge to vomit as soon as he was taken back to his quarters. Even without his wand, Scorpius was a master Occlumens. He would not fall prey_ _to cowardice or madness like the others had. He would survive them all. _

_Relax. Empty your mind. Clear out all thought. Relax. It became his manta._

_Scorpius barely had time to clean up the blood from his_ _face when the door opened once more and he was escorted back to the arena. The man did not drag him anymore. At the very least, Scorpius could maintain his dignity. It made swallowing his fear easier._

_The match was over with surprisingly speed. The man he fought against was native Siberian, but was a good two years younger than he was. He was young and foolish. He made many mistakes and Scorpius moved in quickly, burying his knife hilt deep into the back of the man's neck. He could feel the man's body tense against his for a moment before it went completely still. He had no idea if his method was the most painless, but it was the fastest way he had stumbled upon through the previous matches._

_It was then that he heard a woman screech behind him. Turning around, he saw a_ _young boy pleading with a masked woman who was hitting him with a fan. She had wine spilled down the front of her dress. The boy sobbed as he begged for her forgiveness. She raised her hand to strike him, and before Scorpius could stop himself, he was screaming out at her._

"_You leave him alone!"_

_He had no idea why he bothered to jump to the boy's defense, especially as he stood there soaked in blood, but it had come tumbling out from between his lips before he could even think to silence himself. The whole arena went quiet. The child looked at him in stunned silence, but the woman's face was unreadable, especially behind her partial mask._

_Slowly, she reached up to trace her fingers along a red gem that dangled from around her neck. She seemed to be considering Scorpius from_ _behind her morbid mask. She made a small wave with her hand and the boy began to scream. The larger man grabbed a hold of him and, as the crowd began to applaud once more, he threw the boy into the ring._

_The small boy, no older than ten or eleven, landed with a thud and tried to get to his feet. Scorpius was at his side, kneeling, trying to make sure he was alright. The child suddenly jumped away from him, Scorpius's blade now in his tiny, trembling hands._

"_You veen jus' van more, English. Den, veector,"_ _the man said with a grin. Grabbing a knife from his side, he threw it at Scorpius. Scorpius let it fall to his feet. He was staring at the child in shock. He had killed young people in that sick tournament, but everyone had to have at least been in their twenties. The boy in front of_ _him still had his baby fat clinging to cheeks. He was painfully skinny everywhere else and had large tears falling down his dirty cheeks._

_Slowly, Scorpius reached to grab the knife from the ground. His blood felt cold. In the blade edge, he could see a flash of movement as the boy charged at him._

With a scream, Scorpius suddenly jerked awake. Struggling against the blanket, he ran to the connecting bathroom just in time to vomit into the sink. Turning on the water, he splashed himself as he trembled. He had not had that particular dream in years. He thought he had put it all behind him.

"Shit," Scorpius muttered as he slumped against the sink. It was his first night at Peppertongue and he already knew he would not be able to get a single wink of sleep. He had won his freedom from Belrose, taken his beatings, but it seemed his punishment for turning against his "master" was only just beginning.

How could he escape when he was his own tormentor?

* * *

><p><strong>December 15, 2031<strong>

"How are you enjoying your eggs, Scorpius?" The question shocked Scorpius out of his reverie. Had he actually fallen asleep with his eyes open?

After his abrupt awakening earlier in the morning, Scorpius did not return to sleep, just as he had feared. His exhaustion made his first morning at his new post particularly disconcerting. Sitting right beside him was none other than Mr. Harry Potter himself. He was the Savior of the World, as far as everyone back at home was concerned. Scorpius wasn't impressed and in his exhaustion he was sure it showed on his face.

"Just fine," he answered with a shrug of his shoulders. Suddenly he could hear his mother in his ear, telling him not to be rude. "Thank you, Mr. Potter, for your concern," he was quick to add.

"Scorpius, pass the pumpkin juice here?" asked a red headed man across from him, mouth half full of food. It took all of Scorpius' will power to not sneer. Red hair, a drab tweed suit with mismatching buttons. He must be a Weasley, no doubt. He never paid any Weasley much mind, thankfully, but for some reason seeing one now after so many years, that early in the morning, just seemed to annoy him.

"And the butter over here, please," asked a woman who sat beside the Weasley (Ronald Weasley, Scorpius figured considering how friendly he was with Harry). The woman Scorpius actually knew. To be fair, there were few wizards who did not know of Hermione Weasley. Or Granger as some still called her. There was a time when Scorpius actually aspired to be part of the Ministry of Magic, and he had made it a priority to learn the names of all the movers and shakers. That seemed like centuries ago now.

"Of course, Mrs. Weasley," Scorpius said politely, not even noticing that his voice had become a little quieter.

"Oh, don't be so shy around Hermione, Scorpius!" Ronald Weasley barked out before shoveling more food into his mouth. His wife just rolled her eyes and handed him a napkin. "Her bark's a lot worse than her bite!" Her eyes widened in anger and shock.

"But that's only because once you get her started, you can't get her to stop barking long enough to bite," the other red-headed man, George Weasley, was quick to add, jabbing his elbow into Ronald's side.

"Ron! George! Shut it!" Hermione shouted now. The two men looked down at their food solemnly until they saw that Hermione was no longer glaring at them. They gave each other a silent high five. She saw this, however, and was about to say something when Lily flicked spoonfuls of pourage at them, the globs hitting both men right in the face. Instead of being angry, the two men (the whole table, in fact) merely burst out with laughter. The men threatened to get even with Lily, and her aunt threatened them with Jelly Legs if they dared to lay one hand on her favorite niece.

Despite himself, Scorpius actually found himself smiling at the Potter-Weasley clan's strange behavior. They were so unlike the people with whom he normally associated himself. They were uncouth, loud, messy, and Scorpius actually found himself laughing. Eventually, he found his gaze settling on Albus.

Albus was much quieter than his brother or sister. While they were boisterous and would reach across the table and grab what they wanted, Albus was reserved, trying to take up as little space as possible. He always ate like that. But then again, so many Slytherins did as well back at school that Scorpius never thought it was odd. In that moment, however, surrounded by two generations of Gryffindors, they both stuck out like a sore thumbs.

Scorpius smiled inwardly. When they went back to England for Christmas, maybe he would invite Albus over to his parents' house for a day or two. He was sure Albus would fit in better with his family.

His heart suddenly sank, and Scorpius stood up with a start. For some reason, it was hard to catch his breath. "Excuse me," he gasped out quickly and rushed out of the dining hall. Everyone watched Scorpius walk out with concern on their faces. They looked around at one another, obviously wondering if they had said something to offend the young Malfoy. Albus got to his feet and chased after his friend.

Scorpius was half way down the main stairs when Albus caught up to him, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder. "Scorpius, is everything alright?" From the slight waver in Albus' voice, it was obvious he was worried for Scorpius.

Scorpius swallowed thickly. He felt his hands become clammy. It took several moments before Scorpius allowed him to speak, though he didn't turn around to look at Albus. He didn't trust himself to keep calm if he did. "Yes, I am just not used to all... that," he eventually said. His shoulders slumped.

Albus moved to stand in front of him, smiling up at him. "Are you nervous, Scorpius?"

"What, about class? Of course not." He brought his hands up to his face, rubbing at them. He needed to relax. Scorpius felt a familiar aching in his chest. "I _have_ taught students before, Potter."

Albus just laughed. It didn't look like he was about to push the issue. Scorpius was thankful Albus was so much more tactful than his older brother. "Of course. Is there anything you cannot do, Scorpius?"

"Yes," Scorpius said, giving him a small, wry smile. "Fail."

* * *

><p>Scorpius paced in front of the mirror in his office for what felt like ten minutes already. Reaching up, he adjusted his dark green tie. Albus had told him that Peppertongue had no set policy for uniforms, so none of the professors bothered with robes. Scorpius felt lost as to what to wear for his first class. Every professor at Zenbazi and Kingston wore the traditional robes or suits. Somehow, going to class as casually as Albus did, in jeans and a T-shirt, just did not feel right.<p>

Scorpius doubted that he even _owned_ a single T-shirt.

Stepping back, he looked himself over once more. He looked impeccable in his tailored black suit. Perhaps _too _impeccable. He doubted a full suit would impress the students of Peppertongue. Just as he took off his jacket and tie, the clock on his wall began to chime. His first potions class would be starting in about ten minutes. He would be teaching sixth years, so it would not do to be late.

He was not quite as pleased with his appearance as he would have liked, deciding to just wear his black trousers and white button-up shirt. Still feeling a little too formal, he reached up and undid the top buttons. He could find a better look later, but for now it was good enough; an excellent compromise between formal and casual. Gathering his books and papers, he left his office.

All of the teachers had offices on the seventh story of the school. The Potions laboratories were located just one floor below, on the same floor as Charms and Transfiguration. Scorpius was just getting off the stairs, turning to walk down the hall to his classroom when he spotted two students. He recognized them easily enough as Lucas and Matthew.

Matthew was in his class and Scorpius was sure that if Lucas did not start moving, he would be late for his own class. He was about to tell them so when Lucas suddenly grabbed a hold of Matthew by the scruff of his collar. He pulled the taller boy into such a sudden, passionate kiss that it surprised Matthew and Scorpius both. Quickly ducking back in to the stairway, Scorpius remained silent for a few moments. He suddenly knew what Albus must have felt like. That had certainly been unexpectedly forward, but Scorpius could not say he was too surprised. Teenagers would be teenagers, regardless of country, school, or generation.

When he peeked out into the hallway again, it was empty, so he walked towards his class. Scorpius stood outside of the classroom, gathering his composure. It had been a long morning so far, but he did not want to let it affect his ability to teach. Walking into the class, he walked past the chattering students, walking to the chalkboard in the front of the class.

Just from the slight glance around the room, Scorpius could tell that he could look forward to quite the challenge when it came to teaching at this school. All of the equipment was at least fifteen years old. The chalkboard had a visible crack down the middle and everything was dusty and old. He could not say he was surprised: before he stepped in and intervened, the school was on the verge of closing down completely.

However, despite all of that, Scorpius did not seem to mind. As he glanced around the room, seeing the wide grins or shy smiles on his students' faces, he remembered why he had not been too torn up to put Zenbazi behind him. At least the students here didn't seem to think themselves above his instruction.

"Good morning, children," Scorpius began, the students all quieting down, hanging on his every word. "As many of you know, your previous instructor has now officially retired, and I shall be your new instructor."

"There's no real need to introduce yourself, Mr. Malfoy!" Scorpius turned his head to look at the student who had spoken. He had slightly messy sandy hair and was a bit on the chubby side, but wore a happy, sincere smile. "There isn't a student here who doesn't know you," the boy said. Scorpius remembered him from when he would accompany Belrose to see Lucas a few weeks ago. Logan Masters, Scorpius was sure he was called, checking his roster to be sure. "I can tell you that we're all real psyched that you're gonna be teaching here!"

"Thank you for the welcome," Scorpius said with a smile. He was already thankful he had decided not to wear the full suit. "Mr. Masters, was it?"

"Yes, sir!"Logan confirmed, giving Scorpius a thumbs up. Harwood had told Scorpius about Logan. From what the wizened professor told him, Logan was something of a potions prodigy. Scorpius was looking forward to seeing just what Peppertongue's definition of prodigy was. "Logan Masters, but Logan's fine."

"Well, then," Scorpius said with a nod before glancing around the class. "I suppose we ought to start. Please turn to page two hundred and fourteen in your books."

For his first lesson, Scorpius felt that he would start with something relatively easy. He did not know his students' strengths, after all, and he was sure switching professors so close to the end of the term would make things difficult for them. Once he had given instructions on the proper methods of creating a quick Hiccup Solution, he had the students break away from where they were gathered in the front of the classroom, back to their own stations.

While his students worked, Scorpius walked around, making sure that none of them were putting themselves in needless danger and to discourage any type of horse play around the boiling cauldrons. In Zenbazi, there were hundreds of cases of reported sabotage, and even more that went unreported. Scorpius was reflexively watching out for such things.

However, it hardly seemed needed at Peppertongue. The students seemed genuinely interested in their potions, though they would chat about unrelated things when stirring or waiting for cauldrons to boil up to the right temperature. No one seemed interested in undercutting each other's progress or cheating. It didn't even look like the idea that crossed any of their minds.

Eventually, Scorpius felt it was alright for him to go back to his desk. It was on a raised platform so that he could see much of the class room. He idly read through some paperwork, though he would at time glance around to make sure none of the students seemed to be having difficulty.

When he saw Logan and Matthew, quickly tossing ingredients in the cauldron with expert ease, their books closed, he could not help but smile. From the look of it, the two were quite familiar with a Hiccup Solution. Leaning back against his chair, he thought to a conversation he had overheard between the older Weasley, George, and Albus' father while he was returning from a brief meeting with Rutherford. Apparently, Matthew and Logan had earned summer internships with George for the upcoming summer. He could see now, with their love of potions, how the positions were well earned.

They were the first to finish and as he checked their project, he could find no errors. Logan confessed that he had taken his older sisters' books when he was a third year and had been practicing advanced potions for years. Apparently, Harwood had chastised Logan for his gross impatience.

Scorpius, however, disagreed entirely. So impressed was he with Logan's ambition that he took both Logan and Matthew to the attached library and said the two of them would be allowed access to them whenever they would care to do so. Logan's eyes went wide as he went from shelf to shelf, admiring the collection, soon joined by Matthew. Scorpius left the boys there, salivating over the rare, old books as he returned to the class.

When the bell rang, Scorpius dismissed his students, going to his desk to gather up his belongings. He had checked his stock room and he was missing many important components. He would go down to Dragons Camp before meeting Albus up for lunch.

"You coming, man?"Logan asked as he walked towards the door, a large stack of books in his arms.

Matthew nervously adjusted his glasses as he glanced over at Scorpius from across the room. "Er, yeah, in a sec. I just need to talk to Mr. Malfoy."

"Alright,"Logan said, looking from his friend to the professor. He merely smiled: it wasn't often that Matthew needed to stay behind to talk to a professor. Matthew didn't ask him to leave, but he didn't have to; Logan just knew. "Just don't forget what we talked about earlier. I'll meet you you-know-where when you're done. See ya," he said as he turned to leave.

"Okay. See ya," Matthew muttered, waving at him. When he was finally alone in the room with Scorpius, he walked towards his desk. He stood there for a few moments, not quite sure how to begin saying what it was he had to say.

Scorpius had noticed his nervousness at the door, and after a few failed attempts to speak on Matthew's part, he decided to spare his student from further embarrassment. "Yes, Matthew?" he asked, looking up from his papers.

"Ahm, Mr. Malfoy... I was wondering if I could speak to you for a moment about something," he murmured, before quickly adding, "I mean, if you have time."

"Of course, Matthew," Scorpius said as he took a seat, motioning for Matthew to do so as well. As he leaned back, he pressed the palms of his hands together in front of him as he looked Matthew over, studying him. "I take it this has something to do with that lover of yours," he said, bluntly.

Matthew's eyes went as wide as saucers. "What? You mean Lucas?" Matthew could not believe that he had heard Scorpius properly. "W-we aren't lovers!"

Scorpius arched an eye brow, feeling the edge of his mouth twitch slightly. "Oh, so it was my imagination when I thought I saw you two before class started? My mistake," he said nonchalantly with an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders. "I was unaware how passionate friendships can be here in California."

"We are, you know, _together_," Matthew defended before his cheeks went beet red, looking to the side. "It's just… 'Lovers' is a little old fashioned, isn't it? Like _Romeo and Juliet_ or something."

Scorpius chuckled. He was rather familiar with Shakespeare and was quite fond of the plays. The first play his father had taken him to was _Hamlet_. Muggles had no idea how to properly perform the classics. It was obvious that Shakespeare wrote his works for the Magical Community. "Hm… Star-crossed lovers. It certainly is a romantic notion, isn't it," Scorpius mused before looking at Matthew seriously. "But, I do believe you had something you wished to discuss with me?"

"Yeah," he mumbled as he struggled to compose himself. "You know his mom, right? Lucas's?"

Scorpius tensed. He had hoped that he could go for at least a few hours without being reminded that, unfortunately, Belrose still lived in the same plane of existence as he. "If you are referring to Casandra Belrose, then yes, I have a passing acquaintance with her."

Matthew looked decidedly relieved. "What's she like?"

"I only know her professionally," he said tersely. "Aren't you a little young to be thinking about meeting the in-laws already?"

Matthew just sighed as he shook his head. His shoulders slumped. "It's... nothing like that. I just really want her to like me." Scorpius raised an eyebrow questioningly. Matthew continued. "She means a lot to Lucas. He obviously adores her. I... thought he only had his dad, but all of a sudden this woman shows up. I don't know what to make of it."

"Forget about her, Matthew," Scorpius said quickly. Almost too quickly. "You can't hope to please everyone. The only person you should be trying to keep happy is the one you love," he said, the tone of his voice indicating that he did not want to continue that particular line of conversation anymore.

"Is that what you're doing, Mr. Malfoy?"

That simple question surprised Scorpius. He understood each individual word, but not their meaning when run together in such a pattern. The confusion showed on his face. "Excuse me?" he said, voice lower than normal, almost warning Matthew to be careful with his next words.

"It's just… some people were talking about overhearing Mr. Potter's brother bragging about how he punched you. But you were really civil to him this morning," Matthew explained. "Were you only putting up with him because you really like Mr. Potter?"

"What?" Scorpius sputtered indignantly, his blood turning to ice. The cold was suddenly replaced with heat as Scorpius could feel the blush reach his ears.

"What? You mean you a-and Mr. Potter aren't-? Are you sure?" Matthew questioned, looking shocked. "It's just that everyone was saying how he would always meet you for lunch. And there's the way he's been acting all day. Everyone just assumed you two were-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence," Scorpius commanded, on his feet now. "Albus and I are old classmates, nothing more. He's like a brother."

Matthew was quiet as he looked up at Scorpius, face unreadable. Completely unreadable. Matthew would be quite the Occlumens if he ever had the inclination, Scorpius guessed. For a tense moment, the two men stood facing off, trying to gain the upper hand in their spar. "Alright, alright. Sorry to bring it up," he relented, standing up.

"No," Scorpius muttered, sighing as he ran fingers through his pale blond hair. "It really is fine. Just... do me a favor and... let people know."

"Wait, you actually _want_ me to gossip?" Matthew asked, incredulous.

"Did you need my permission?" Scorpius asked with a smirk.

"Nope, but it's nice to have it," Matthew answered, flashing him a bright grin as he turned to walk out of the class. "See you later, Mr. Malfoy!" he called out, waving at the exhausted looking man.

"Good day, Matthew," Scorpius said in return, instinctively waving in return before he could stop himself.

* * *

><p>Scorpius had spent much of the afternoon taking a nap in the Astronomy Tower. The Astronomy classes were only at night, so the tower was empty during the day.<p>

He knew he was free of Belrose. She had set him free herself after having her goons beat him to a bloody pulp and throw him from her apartment. He knew he was free and yet his body was instinctively on edge. He could hardly get any restful sleep. Reaching up, he rubbed against his chest. Whenever he thought of Belrose, of all they had done together, he felt a painful tightness in his chest. Sometimes, the tightness was so complete each breath became a struggle. He hoped that once he was no longer around her that feeling would fade, that he may one day regain the normalcy he had lost years ago. With a yawn, he rested back against the Astronomy platform, resting his head against his bundled up jacket.

He had gone to lunch with Albus but (oh, he was embarrassed just thinking about it) he had actually drifted off to sleep at some point. And, instead of waking him up, Albus had just let Scorpius sleep in the middle of the café.

When Scorpius had woken up, Albus was still sitting across from him, sipping tea and just reading a book quietly. Scorpius was mortified when he realized that not only as he fallen asleep, but Albus had draped his coat on him so he could sleep more comfortably. Jumping to his feet, he handed Albus his coat back before he started making a quick excuse.

Albus, however, was quicker. Before Scorpius had managed to blurt out that he had somewhere to be, Albus made him promise to come watch his dueling team's last practice before the Tournament the next day. Scorpius was so desperate to leave that he agreed and made a swift exit.

He had been so preoccupied with his thoughts, about his public display of foolishness and the fact that the scent of Albus' cologne still clung to him, that he hardly noticed when he was already walking up the flight of stairs up to the Astronomy Tower. He was fast asleep almost as soon as his head touched the observation deck. He slept more peacefully than he had in months.

It was a good thing that he finished up all of his classes for the day: when he woke up, the bells were ringing six o'clock in the evening. With a loud yawn, Scorpius got to his feet. He had been walking down the stairs, intending to go to bed, when he spotted Albus outside, speaking with a group of students. He watched in confusion for a moment before he remembered what Albus had told him earlier that day. That was probably the dueling team that Albus was so proud of. They weren't much, just a small group of seven, no, eight. Scorpius doubted they would last long against Kingston.

But seeing the excited look on Albus' face, he hoped they didn't lose too badly.

Walking out of the school, he walked towards the group, his hands jammed in his pockets. He had tried to at least look presentable, but he was sure that Albus would figure out that Scorpius had been fast asleep just minutes before. That annoyed Scorpius, so he ran his fingers through his pale blond hair.

"Scorpius!" Albus called out as he waved him over. He wore a bright smile. Scorpius was almost taken aback. It wasn't often he saw that particular expression on Albus' face. "I'm so happy you made it!"

"I said I would, did I not?" Scorpius grumbled, stiffing a yawn that threatened to make its presence known, mid-sentence. His jaw ached slightly as he throttled the yawn.

"You also said you were incredibly busy, though," he said quietly, looking up at Scorpius, worry clear on his face. Scorpius sighed. He could tell just by looking at Albus' face that he was over-thinking Scorpius' actions.

Reaching out, he patted Albus's back as he shrugged. "My schedule suddenly became free," he said, dismissively. The last thing he wanted was Albus worrying about Scorpius when he ought to be worried about his pathetic excuse for a dueling team. "So, this is the team, is it?"

"Yes!" Albus beamed. Albus's pride in his students was obvious in the way he looked at them as they faced off against each other. Scorpius could see them making small mistakes here and there, mistakes that could cost them the tournament. He could see them easily, but he chose to say nothing. Albus already had so few things he genuinely took pride in, that Scorpius did not feel like being a miser and crushing one of them. "They're all very dedicated. I'm so proud of them," Albus explained.

"There aren't many of them, are there?" Scorpius mused before he could stop himself. It seemed even when he tried to sound optimistic, his natural pessimism demanded to make an appearance. "From what I understand of the rules... it isn't adjusted by number of contestants per school." And once that pessimism started, it was difficult for Scorpius to stop.

"That's right," Albus said, not moving his gaze away from his students. "They apparently had a meeting on that matter, but, obviously, Peppertongue was out-voted."

"You don't seem too worried." And Albus really didn't. He had responded nonchalantly, as if the fact his small band was heavily outnumbered was a moot point.

"I'm not," he said, turning to grin at Scorpius. "We've been training very hard every day. Plus, my dad gave them a few pointers," Albus added with a chuckle, "They have been really motivated ever since." This was a side of Albus that Scorpius had not seen much in the past. Overconfidence in the face of all obstacles (and logic) seemed to be more of James's forte.

"And why wouldn't they?" He asked, sitting down on one of the metal benches, watching the practice duels. "Your father is Head Auror," he spat out. Scorpius flinched as soon as he said it. He hadn't meant to sound as bitter as he did. He glanced over at Albus.

If Albus had been taken aback by Scorpius' tone, he did not let it show on his face. He merely sat down beside him and replied, "Yes, in England. Things work differently here."

A comfortable silence fell between them then. Scorpius had been concentrating entirely on the duels until Albus shivered beside him from the cold air. It happened suddenly, Albus's whole body tensing, but when it passed and he settled back in his place on the bench, his arm was now pressing against Scorpius's.

It was just a light touch. It was so light that Albus hardly seemed to notice. If it had happened even the day before, Scorpius would have probably not noticed it either. However, ever since his conversation with Matthew earlier, he was becoming painfully aware of his interactions with Albus.

He swallowed thickly as he tried to ignore the touch. He could notice some of the students tossing the pair of teachers sidelong glances. Scorpius cleared his throat and Albus looked over at him curiously, pressing just a little closer against him. "You know, if you wanted, I could duel them." He didn't really care to duel children, but at least it would allow him a much needed distraction.

"Do you want to?" Albus asked in surprise, watching as Scorpius got to his feet, taking out his wand.

"I don't see why not. This is my school, too. Well, even more than it was before," he assured. If he told Albus he suddenly took an interest the extra-curricular activities of his students, he doubted Albus would believe him. But if he made it seem self-serving, it would seem more believable. Scorpius wasn't sure if he appreciated what that meant about how Albus viewed him. But then again, it was the truth. "A win for them is a win for me." Besides, it wasn't a lie to say Scorpius loved winning.

"That is true," Albus muttered lightly, trailing off. He was deliberating on the matter, glancing over at his students, most having stopped their practicing, watching their professor.

"And let's not forget," Scorpius added with a smug grin, rolling his shoulders, "I was undefeated back in school."

"You haven't gotten rusty, now, have you? We've been out of school a long time," Albus teased, nudging Scorpius' side with his elbow. Scorpius always did find his undefeated dueling record to be quite the point of pride.

"Not a chance," Scorpius assured with a cocky smirk. Albus chuckled lightly before calling Matthew over. The final match of the tournament would be a two-on-two duel and, if Albus was right in gauging his team, the final duo would, in all likelihood be Lucas and Matthew.

While Matthew was practically a genius when it came to strategy and theory, when it came to thinking on his feet during a duel, he faltered. He over-thought things, made glaring mistakes in the heat of the moment, and was just too slow sometimes. Albus had confessed to Scorpius earlier that because of this flaw, Lucas made for the more effective duelist.

It only made sense that Albus would want Scorpius to face off against Matthew. If there was anyone who could benefit from losing soundly to the Potions teacher, it would be Matthew.

Taking their places, both men stared each other down, giving the duel their full attention. The other members of the dueling team put their own practices on hold and gathered around. They had never seen a professor face off against a student before. They were even more excited to see just what Mr. Malfoy was capable of, none of them having actually seen him do much magic.

Albus instructed them to bow to one another. "Remember, the point of this practice duel is to only disarm your opponent," he said, tossing a glance over at Scorpius before stepping back.

As soon as he did so, Matthew jumped back, his arm poised. "_Expel-_" he began, but Scorpius was much faster.

Scorpius dashed forward and swept his arm up. It was almost as if Scorpius's body was moving on its own accord, his reflexes much more honed than they had ever been back at school. Gone was Scorpius's smirk. His expression was completely unreadable, eyes trained on Matthew and nothing else. Albus shuddered as he watched him. Scorpius was not lying when he said he had not gotten rusty.

With a cry of "_Alarte Ascendare!_" Matthew was tossed into the air, screaming as he realized what had happened. Instinctively, Albus jumped to his feet. Scorpius, however, did not stop. Pointing his wand at Matthew's falling body, he cast _Aqua Eructo. _The resulting jet of water hit Matthew's form so hard that it sent his body spinning. For a fleeting moment, Scorpius looked like he was going to let Matthew's body hit the ground full force, but he soon flicked his wand back. He wordlessly cast _Aresto Momentum_ and Matthew's disoriented body was brought safely to the ground.

Albus noticed Matthew's discarded wand a few feet away and went to go pick it up, taking it back to the young man. As he held the wand in his hand, Albus realized he was trembling slightly. It had just been a duel, but something felt odd, watching Scorpius. He glanced back at Scorpius over his shoulder. The man stood tall, his chin slightly tilted upward, no expression on his face. Albus could not help but feel as if he were looking at a completely different person. Almost as soon as he realized it, Scorpius's whole body relaxed a bit.

Despite his loss, Matthew seemed to be in as good a humor as ever. He stood up slowly, dripping wet and shivering from the cold. And yet, his smile was sincere. "Woah, M-Mr. Malfoy, what on earth was that?" he asked, teeth beginning to chatter.

"That would be called fighting dirty," Scorpius said coolly, "or as I like to call it, fighting intelligently." Taking off his coat, he put it around Matthew's shoulders. He did not do it to be kind. Scorpius simply did not want Albus screeching in his ear the next morning if Matthew caught a cold. He had not meant to go so hard on Matthew. His body has simply acted on instinct before he could stop himself. The least he could do was make sure that Matthew did not suffer for his negligence.

"But I thought dueling was supposed to be, I don't know, _gentlemanly_?" Matthew questioned as Albus walked towards them. He had ended practice and told the rest of the team to go get some sleep. The other students could take the hint and while they might have wanted to stay, they all turned to leave.

"Gentlemanly?" Scorpius questioned with a light snort. "Now who's old-fashioned? Do what you can to win. That's what matters."

Matthew clenched his jaw for a moment before he stood up straighter, hugging the coat to him. "I'll try," he said, nodding his head obediently.

Scorpius tensed as he looked down at Matthew's clear eyes. For some reason, he felt rather agitated, though it didn't seem to be from anything that Matthew had done. The whole situation seemed oddly familiar, though he couldn't quite place his finger on why. "If all you ever do is try, but never accomplish your goals, all you are doing is wasting everyone's time," Scorpius snapped back, a look of disgust on his face. The words spilled out easily and even though Scorpius heard them, he could not recall wanting to say them.

For a moment, he felt disoriented. A vision of something familiar flashed before his vision but disappeared into the void before he could comprehends just what it was. He had never felt deja vu so intensely, but it had been happening many times recently. It all began when he left Belrose's side.

The expression of disgust surprised Matthew, but it seemed to surprise Albus more. "Scorpius..." he trailed softly, reaching out to put a hand on Scorpius' arm.

"Hey, the hell is your problem?" Scorpius tossed a glance over his shoulder as he watched Lucas storming towards him. The young boy looked so enraged that his whole body was shaking violently under his thin jumper. "You can't just talk to Matthew like that. He said he would try, didn't he?" Lucas spat out as he reached out, giving Scorpius a shove.

Albus stepped forward to move Lucas away, but Scorpius grabbed a hold of Lucas's wrist suddenly, twisting it back. "You would do well to watch your mouth, Mr. Rutherford." Inside of Scorpius's mind, two forces were struggling. One voice was screaming out for Scorpius to be gentle with his student. The other, much darker voice, was calling for Scorpius to squeeze tighter, break the bones of that woman's chosen heir. Lucas was no child. He had that monster's blood inside of his veins. He was just as guilty as she was, as guilty as Scorpius was.

Lucas cried out in pain and Matthew quickly moved to his side, pulling Lucas away from Scorpius, holding him close. "My mother was right about you, after all! You're a-a bully! Just because you've got money to throw around doesn't give you the right to-"

"Lucas, please," Matthew pleaded with him, "You're getting too worked up."

"No. Matthew, he's being a pompous idiot," Lucas answered back, his face flushed with rage. "He can't just bitch at you like that. Winning _isn't_ everything."

"You're right," Scorpius said easily, casually adjusting his long shirt sleeves. "It's the _only_ thing. Or did your precious mother fail to teach you that?" Lucas made a charge at him, but Matthew kept him in place.

"Scorpius, please," Albus began, looking up at his friend, pleadingly. "Don't pick a fight." Scorpius looked away. He didn't want to see Albus begging.

"That's it!" Lucas cried out, throwing his arms up. Matthew took a step back from him then. "I've had enough of this." Striding in front of Scorpius, he glared up at him. "Malfoy, I challenge you to a Wizard Duel. Right _fucking _now."

"Lucas..." Matthew started, reaching out to take a hold of Lucas' arm. The younger man just pulled away.

"I accept the challenge," Scorpius said, stepping closer to Lucas, snarling at the young boy, contempt clear on his face. One voice was clearly winning.

Albus was shocked. "Scorpius!" The blond was looking away from him, but he could see in his mind the expression Albus wore. He had no idea why just being around Lucas made him so agitated. Whatever the reason, it made him want to pulverize Lucas and then spread his ashes over the Quidditch pitch.

"Please, Mr. Potter," Lucas said, tearing his gaze away from Scorpius to look at Albus. He was pleading, even through his anger. "I need to do this. He insulted my mother and my..." Lucas trailed off as he glanced at Matthew momentarily, "my friend."

"Fine," Albus finally sighed, giving into Lucas's request. "But Scorpius," he said, expression serious as he lowered his voice, "You go easy on him, you understand? If my star pupil is hurt the day before the big Tournament, I won't forgive you. Ever."

Scorpius had to resist the urge to laugh now. He had to resist many old emotions that welled within him. He grasped at his wand so tightly his knuckles turned white. Was the beating of his heart always so loud? Were December evenings always so hot? He took in several deep breaths, feeling his body beginning to relax.

He was not with Belrose anymore. Lucas was no Belrose. He was just a boy. This was just a little duel to teach Lucas a lesson about being respectful of his elders. It was just that. A soft internal manta was enough to calm his enraged spirit. Scorpius, luckily, did not seem to have inherited any of the Lestrange madness. "You have my word."

Taking their places, the two of them bowed to one another half heatedly before Albus instructed them to do so. In that moment, they seemed to ignore Matthew and Albus who stood by the benches. Before Scorpius had the chance to stand up straight, Lucas suddenly charged at him. "_Frangat Co_-" Albus' eyes widened in horror. He knew that spell.

Scorpius, while unaware of what Lucas was about to cast, was not about to let him finish. Without uttering a word, Scorpius swiped at the air. As if a force hit Lucas right in the chest, he was hurtled backwards. He groaned, struggling to his feet. Once more, Lucas raised his wand, attempting the same spell. Scorpius just laughed and, practically attacking the air, he conjured up nearly two dozen black scaled King Cobras. They reared back and hissed at Lucas, suddenly rushing at him.

"_I-Incendio!_" Lucas screamed out, attacking the snakes as they tried to bite at his legs. Scorpius watched, a dark expression falling over his face as he grinned, watching Lucas struggle against his snakes. Perhaps the manta had not worked as well as he had hoped. _Serpensortia _had always been one of his favorite spells. Finally having had enough of the little game, Scorpius pointed his wand at Lucas. "_Ventus_!" he cried out and a blast of wind knocked Lucas clear off his feet, leaving him on the ground, gasping for air.

"Enough!" Albus called out when he saw Lucas tried to get back to his feet but stumbled to the ground. "The match is over."

"Quite," Scorpius concurred. "_Vipera Evanesca_," he murmured and the snakes smoldered into ash. Tossing one last glance over at where Lucas was gasping for breath, Scorpius turned on his heels and walked back to the castle. As he walked up the steps, he brought his wand to his chest, clutching it painfully tight. He gasped for breath as he continued to walk. It felt as if someone had their hand at his heart, squeezing it. He could start to see black spots at the edges of his vision. As soon as it began, it was over, leaving Scorpius coated with sweat, his mind reeling. He ran inside, rushing to his quarters as quickly as he could.

Albus had watched him go for only a moment before he made his way to Lucas. He wanted to ask Scorpius what that had been about, but Albus was a teacher first and foremost. The safety of his student was his first priority.

"Lucas, are you alright?" Matthew cried out as he fell to his knees beside Lucas, gently smoothing his hair back.

As Lucas looked up at him, the shock on his face was soon replaced with rage. Tears began to well in his eyes and he covered his face with one arm, turning his head to the side, away from Matthew. "Shit..."

* * *

><p>"Stop pacing, Albus. You are going to cut a groove in the dirt."<p>

Albus stopped his pacing immediately. He had been so lost in thought that he hadn't even realized he was been doing it again. He glanced over at his sister, who sat across from him in the large tent. He smiled weakly at her. "You're right, Lily. I just..." How best to express the violently nerve-wracking feelings in the pit of his belly without causing his younger sister to completely lose faith in him? "I really am nervous. I have never done something like this before."

"You mean sitting on the side lines, looking pretty?" James said as he pulled the tent flap and walked inside. He stood by the entrance, his hands on his hips. "I would have thought you'd be used to it by now."

"James! You made it!" Albus said happily, going over to hug his older brother. "I thought you said you had a date?"

"I did. I do. Apparently, this whole school rivalry is pretty popular here," he said, sniggering. "She insisted on coming here for our date. Oh," he trailed off, opening the flap once again, reaching outside. "And look who I found straggling behind," he said as he pulled Scorpius into the tent.

Scorpius had thick, charmed rope wrapped around his wrists. Despite how undignified he looked, Scorpius just gave Albus a smile. "Well, hello Albus. You're looking well."

"Scorpius..."

"I said I would make it if I finished my work on time," Scorpius said quickly, trying his best to look the very picture of nonchalance. "I finished earlier than I thought."

"Dad's in the stands already with Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione," James informed Albus, wanting to mercifully end the awkward tension that had developed between Scorpius and Albus.

"Where's Uncle George?" Albus asked, noticing that his Uncle's name had been left out of James's list.

"He had to send Roxy a letter, but he should be here in a few minutes. It looks like Lucas, Matthew and Logan will all be staying with us during the summer," James said as he pulled out his wand. Setting the tip against the robes around Scorpius' wrists, he caused them to fall away and dissolve before ever touching the ground.

"What, really?" Lily asked in surprise. She didn't mind the idea of the boys staying at their house. She was still living with her parents, but she had grown attached to the strange boys. They reminded her a bit of her relatives. It felt like she had known them for years.

"Yeah. Uncle George offered them apprenticeships, and then Dad offered them lodging," James told her as he went to pour himself some water. It had taken him a while to find Scorpius hiding out in the café.

"I guess that makes sense," Albus conceded, nodding his head as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Without all of us there, there's a lot of free space."

"I hate to interrupt the reminiscing," Scorpius began, reaching up to adjust his dark green tie. He had grown tired of the family conversation. "But the Tournament will start soon." Almost as if just then realizing what time it was, Albus shot out of the tent like a cannon, making his way to the field where the tournament would be held.

Albus had never seen a wizard duel held outside. Back at school, they would always practice in a class room and would fight challengers in those same classrooms. He heard professionals would use grand dueling halls. But never outside. Not only was it held outside, but it was actually held at the city Quidditch Pitch. There were five large stages set up in order to make the Tournament run more efficiently. Huerta had informed him when Albus went to the medical tent earlier to get his father something for his headache that so many stages were set up to make the preliminary matches go by faster.

This turned out to be a rather smart idea. At final count, Peppertongue's small team was facing off against Kingston's forty students. A few had dropped out at the last moment, not wanting to bother with Peppertongue when their next duel was scheduled the following week and would be against the formidable Zenbazi.

The fact that it would be Kingston facing off Zenbazi, the reigning champions, seemed to be such a foregone conclusion that everyone was sincerely shocked by how tenacious the Peppertongue students had suddenly become in a single year.

In previous years, the Tournament duels against Peppertongue were always used as warm ups by the other two schools. Peppertongue would bring forth one or two duelists and, even if they put up a strong show, would only last a round or two. They would soon be taken out of the Tournament and the remaining duelists would compete against each other for rankings.

This year, however, Peppertongue had brought forth six competitors and they were the most spirited lot Dragons Camp had ever seen. Harry sat on the bench, taking pictures of the Dueling Club's duels, making sure to get Ginny shots of Albus coaching his students from the side lines. Harry had never seen his youngest son allow himself to look so passionate about anything before.

Soon, people around him began gossiping about the mysterious new teacher who had taken over the Peppertongue Dueling Club. They heard that Albus Potter had worked as an undercover Auror. They heard that Albus Potter hunted dark wizards on the weekends for fun. Some of the younger spectators took their speculations one step further. "I heard Albus Potter's tears can counter act basilisk venom. Too bad he has _never_ cried." "Yeah, well, I heard that Albus Potter doesn't bow to Hippogriffs; Hippogriffs bow to Albus Potter!"

Harry was thankful that the crowd soon exploded into cheers as Peppertongue won yet another duel because he was finding it difficult not to laugh. The children of Dragon's Camp certainly were easy to excite. He was happy to hear that his youngest son was making such a positive impression on everyone. He contemplated telling Albus the jokes he had heard, but decided not to: Albus would just become embarrassed and shy.

After nearly three hours, the final pair of duelists from each school was facing each other. From Peppertongue, as Albus had suspected, there was Matthew and Lucas. Albus cheered for them, giving them some last minute advice from the coach's box. Scorpius sat down beside him, but said nothing.

He had hardly said anything the whole tournament. To the outside observer, it might appear as though Scorpius was simply disinterested, but that was far from the truth. Whenever Peppertongue won, a shadow of a smile would wash over Scorpius' face. In a highly tense situation, this was just how Scorpius reacted. Even if Scorpius had soundly defeated both students just the night before, he was radiating pride as he watched them take their places on the stage. Any hatred that he might have felt towards Lucas the night before seemed to be replaced, if only temporarily, by the even stronger feeling of pride a teacher felt in a student.

Kingston's final duelists were practically coated in sweat by the time they made their way to the stage. They were far from the top of the team. It was obvious that they had never thought they would actually have to face off against Peppertongue for victory. They were middle rung in the Dueling Club and were normally forgotten, but suddenly they had their upperclassmen breathing down their necks.

Scorpius, however, had no pity for the Kingston team. They had tried to insult his students by sending their weaker team. They had declared that they could defeat Peppertongue's best duelists with Kingston's weakest, just as they had every year. Scorpius was practically giddy as he watched the fearful duelists take their places. They had been imprudent and they would pay for their overconfidence with defeat. It was fitting.

When he glanced over at Matthew and Lucas, Scorpius tensed. Matthew was facing off against their opponents, but Lucas was just smirking over at Scorpius. He wore the same expression Belrose had so many times before that it made Scorpius uneasy. He couldn't help but feel like Lucas was challenging him. His chest began to feel tight just as it had the night before when he had been facing Lucas. It worried him. It angered him.

Scorpius did not have to wait long to see just why Lucas had been smirking. As soon as they had bowed properly, Matthew and Lucas attacked in earnest, working as a team. "_Alarte Ascendare!_" Matthew cried out, sending one of the duelists into the air. Lucas took advantage of the confusion to run forward and, with the flick of his wand, send the second duelist flying back. When both Kingston duelists landed on the ground, struggling to catch their breath, Lucas tossed a triumphant grin over at Scorpius. Scorpius scowled in return.

Lucas was going out of his way to show Scorpius that he could do wordless magic as well. Scorpius knew as well as anyone else that the Kingston duelists were no match against someone who could use wordless magic so aggressively. Scorpius should have been proud to have such a talented pupil.

He should have been, but he wasn't. In that moment, Scorpius didn't see Lucas as his student. All he saw was Belrose's chosen heir, and he felt the color draining from his face.

Within a matter of minutes, the duel was over. With one final cast of _Serpensortia_ from Lucas, the Kingston duelists, apparently deathly afraid of snakes, effectively forfeited the match by running from the stage as the Black Mambas charged them. Peppertongue was declared the victors and the stage was rushed by screaming fans. Albus turned to look at Scorpius, but was cut off mid-sentence when he realized Scorpius was nowhere to be seen.

Scorpius had taken advantage of the explosive applause and cheering to walk away from the group. Stepping into the recovery tent for the Peppertongue Dueling Club, he flopped down on one of the cots. The cheering outside was making him sick. He pulled out a flask from his coat and tossed back a swig of the cheap absinthe. It eased the pain in his chest. It quieted the voice. Scorpius could really disgust himself sometimes.

"You were amazing, Matthew!" Lucas cried out when they had finally managed to slip away from their adoring fans. He glanced around and, seeing that no one seemed to notice them under the bleachers, he wrapped his arms around Matthew.

Matthew laughed softly as he returned the embrace. "Not me," he said with a light shake of his head. "We were amazing, Lucas," he corrected. Lucas just sniggered as he looked up at Matthew. A light blush washed over Matthew's cheek as Lucas moved his hands up to take a hold of Matthew's glasses, removing them from his face. Wrapping his arms around Matthew's neck, the younger boy leaned up, softly pressing their lips together.

"Well, well, it looks like Peppertongue is just filled with all sorts of gross types." At the words, Lucas pulled away quickly, clutching Matthew's glasses tightly in his hand. He spun around to look at one of the duelists he had defeated a few rounds into the Tournament. Williams, if Lucas remembered probably. This time, the smarmy Kingston boy wasn't alone. "How did this little freak show come about?" The boy spat out as he and his cronies surrounded Matthew and Lucas. "School couldn't afford to give you separate quarters or… Wait, don't tell me. You two always swung that way. Which one of you is the bitch?"

Lucas was seeing red. He could take a personal attack with the best of them, but the boy in front of him as attacking Matthew. Lucas was practically snarling as he reached for his wand. "Lucas..." Matthew pleaded softly, reaching out to put a hand on Lucas's. "Just ignore him. He's an idiot. He's not worth it."

"No way am I going to let him talk to me like that," Lucas snarled back softly in response, his eyes never once leaving the leader of the group in front of him.

"Oh, looks like the little fairy wants to fight!" Williams cried out, feigning surprise. "I'm so scared."

It took everything Lucas had to not punch Williams right in his smug face. Slowly, he began to chuckle. His chuckling turned into boisterous laughter. "You should be. If I remember correctly, this 'little fairy' kicked your ass in front of hundreds," he said, coolly walking towards Williams. Reaching out, he pinched the boy's pudgy cheek. "Guess that means, between the two of us, you're _my_ bitch."

"Ugh!" Williams cried out, pushing Lucas away, face pale, "You're disgusting! I don't want you molesting me!"

"Don't flatter yourself, asshole!" Lucas called out as he threw his head back and laughed. "I'm not into some fat, lazy bastard who wouldn't know a Mandrake from his own mother."

Williams pulled his wand out and pointed it right at Lucas, a dark smirk on his face. "You'll regret you ever insulted my mother, you little piece of shit. _Cruc_-"

"_Levicorpus!_" Williams lowered his wand as he watched an irritated Scorpius walking out of the tent. Scorpius was glaring at Lucas blearily, his eyes red, wand out.

"The fuck?" Lucas screamed out as he struggled, dangling in the air by his ankles. He had been so surprised that he had dropped his wand and Matthew's glasses. Scorpius picked them up and he tucked the wand into his pocket before giving Matthew his glasses. "Let me down!"

"M-Mr. Malfoy, thank you," Matthew said weakly as he took the black rimmed glasses from his teacher. He had heard what Williams had been about the cast, and was glad that Scorpius had been as quick as he had.

Scorpius just turned to look at theKingstonstudents. "Get back to the rest of your school."

"You can't tell us what to do," Williams said with a nervous laugh. He stepped back, nonetheless. "You aren't our professor-"

Scorpius just took a single step towards Williams. "I said: Get. Back." There was an unvoiced threat hanging heavily in Scorpius' words. Williams and his friends were smarter than to stick around and see just what would happen if they crossed Scorpius. The dark, haunted look in Scorpius' gray eyes was enough to shoot down any form of protest.

"... Yes, sir," the group muttered solemnly before turning on their heels and rushing back to the rest of their school.

"As for you..._Mobilicorpus_. I will be taking you back to your master," Scorpius said with an exhausted sigh, walking to where Albus and the other teachers were, Lucas' struggling body floating beside him. "It seems like it was a foolish idea for Albus to allow his pet to get so far out of his sight. At least, without a leash."

"Fuck y-"

"_Langlock._" Lucas mumbled angrily all the way back to his teachers, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, glaring daggers at Scorpius the whole time.

Not that Scorpius cared. He was busy enjoying the blissful silence.

**TBC**


	8. Deals With The Devil

**Author's Note:** [07/06/2012] Edited grammar and spelling errors and some points for continuities sake. :) Happy Reading!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

**"Deals with the Devil"**

* * *

><p><strong>December 16, 2031<strong>

It was well past midnight, but Scorpius's bed was still made. He sat at his desk, grading essays. He was thankful that the American schools did not seem to favor pen and parchment. It was nostalgic, sure, but now that he was a professor, having to carry around scrolls of students' chicken scratch was tedious. The students in California seemed to enjoy using Muggle school supplies like lined paper and ball point pens.

He had been confused when he first started teaching at Zenbazi to not see a single scroll, but now that he was acclimatized, he supposed it made sense. Almost all of the students had been reared in Muggle schools prior to starting their magical education, and early habits remained with them. He was also thankful. It was easier to carry around a stack of paper than it was a bundle of scrolls. Scorpius liked convenience.

He was just about to turn off his light and go to bed when he heard a knock on his door. He sighed. Had it been in Zenbazi, any student up and about the halls would have been severely punished and sent back to bed. Peppertongue, however, was much more lax. Students often pestered professors whenever they had issues. Scorpius already found teaching students to be irritating for the most part. Having to deal with their extracurricular issues was almost too much to bear. But he bore with it nonetheless. He did not have anything better to do, in any case.

"Coming," he said with a sigh, taking his reading glasses off, tightening the bedroom robe around him as he stood. Walking over to the door, he opened it, speaking in a forced whisper. "This had better be important. I'm right in the middle of- Albus?" Albus stood there, in his usual pair of dark green pajamas and slipped. He had a black robe around him. He still looked cold, even while he hugged it around himself. "I'm sorry. I thought you were a student," Scorpius said softly, stepping aside to allow Albus entrance.

Albus just laughed as he walked into, going to sit on Scorpius' bed, not bothering to ask for permission first. "Do they annoy you that much?"

He just shrugged. "I am not really... cut out to be a teacher," he confessed, walking over to his desk. He turned his back to Albus as he began to pack his graded papers into his bag.

"I don't know," Albus started, shifting a bit on the bed so as to tuck one leg under the other. "I think you are doing a phenomenal job. The students seemed to be quite taken in by your charm."

Scorpius cocked a brow as he turned to look at Albus. "What is that supposed to mean?"Logan seemed to like him just fine, but then again, he had never seen Logan be anything other than completely cheerful in front of any professor.

"It means," Albus started, grinning at him impishly, "When you are not being a prat, you can be rather charismatic." Scorpius snorted at that. Albus was normally so reserved around most people. It made Scorpius' heart warm to think that perhaps Albus really did consider them close enough to be sharp. "It is more than obvious how much you love your work. That love shows through."

Rolling his eyes, Scorpius sat down on his chair, sitting near Albus. "I never took you to be a romantic."

Albus just shrugged. "Maybe it's the change in climate. It's difficult to be too much of a Scrooge when the weather's so nice outside, despite it being winter," he explained, taking a look at his arms. His skin was normally so pale, but after months in the States, spending a lot of time outside in the sun, he had tanned considerably. "Sunny days in December. I never would have imagined."

"What, never go on vacations, Potter?"

"We did. Lots of, Brazil, Iceland. I have the family pictures to prove it!" Albus insisted.

Scorpius looked at him incredulously for a moment before realization dawned. "Don't tell me: you spent most of your time indoors?"

Albus just smiled weakly. He had been caught. "Is it that obvious?"

"You do realize we were Housemates for seven years, right?" Scorpius grinned a bit, leaning back against his chair, glancing up at the ceiling. "Zabini and I had a bit of a theory going, actually."

"Oh?" Albus asked curiously. Scorpius normally didn't recount tales of their old housemates, and Albus wasn't one to ask.

"We figured that if you happened to die from exhaustive studying, you would become the new House Ghost," Scorpius explained before he looked back at Albus with a sly grin. "The Bloody Baron is great, but he didn't have the dedication to the dungeons that you had."

Albus groaned in embarrassment at that. "I guess I did stay down in the dungeons a lot."

"You don't say!"

"In my defense, they were beautiful," Albus said somewhat wistfully, glancing out of Scorpius's window, out to the Quidditch field. The moon cast a pale glow over everything. "I could sit by the windows all day, just looking out into the water. Having that kind of underwater view... It was so relaxing."

Scorpius was quiet as he watched him for a moment. He slowly shook his head. "I guess that explains it..."

Albus turned to look back in Scorpius' direction, having snapped out of his daydream. "Explains what, exactly?"

"During our first year when they were taking us to the dungeons for the first time. You were so pale and shaking, I heard the Head Girl speaking with her Prefects about sending you to the Infirmary."

Albus's face went bright red. That had not been a good time for the middle Potter child. "You saw that?"

"Of course," Scorpius answered. "You were Harry Potter's son. His son who bucked generations of tradition and got sorted in with our lot. We were all paying attention to you."

He felt his face heating up, to the tips of his ears. "That's embarrassing..."

"Granted, most of us were trying to see how long you were going to last before leaving Hogwarts," Scorpius conceded with a light, nonchalant shrug.

"What?"

"Don't worry. That didn't last long," Scorpius assured him as he continued. "That first night, you looked so miserable. But then when we walked into the dungeon and you first saw the view out those windows... you walked right over to it. You got this big grin on your face like a complete idiot."

"I... I did not," Albus denied.

"Oh, yes, you did," Scorpius countered, "You might not like being compared to your father, but in that moment, you really looked like Harry Potter's son. You smile like he does. It's almost irritating," he added.

Albus stood up as he stretched, glancing over at him. "Well, you smile a lot like your father."

"My father doesn't smile much."

"Exactly."

"Well, well, aren't we being clever, Potter?" he teased as he watched Albus walk over to him, leaning a bit against his desk. They were so close now their knees were just brushing against one another. Scorpius forced his gaze away, looking up at Albus from his seat on Scorpius's now cleared desk. "But I take it that you haven't come to grace me with your presence just so I can regale you with tales from our past."

Albus nodded. "I've actually come to ask a favor."

"Fine. Just keep it short."

"So, have you heard about the Winter Ball they will be having in a few days?" Albus asked, almost nervously. Scorpius could suddenly feel his heart beat in his ear. Had breathing always been such a loud task? "You've only just started, so maybe no one has said a thing."

"Of course I've heard," Scorpius assured him. It took all of his effort to make sure his voice remained even. "My students have been prattling about it nonstop since the Dueling Tourney a few days ago." Albus began to snicker. "It is no laughing matter. I have already had seven potions accidents because my students are acting like...like..."

"Children?" Albus provided in between chuckles.

Scorpius did his best to feign annoyance. "You had a point?"

"Well, see, it is expected that the faculty will attend." Scorpius numbly nodded his head. Where could Albus be taking this conversation? "The school holds the Ball the day before the students go home for Winter break, so it is also a sendoff party for everyone. Are you... planning on going?"

Scorpius swallowed thickly, bringing a hand up to nervously smooth his hair back. It was a nervous habit. "I haven't decided."

"Do you have someone in mind to be your date for the Ball?" Albus continued relentlessly, reaching out to take a hold of Scorpius' hand, stilling it. "Has anyone asked you?"

"Why do you want to know?" Scorpius asked, his voice so low it was practically trembling. His mind was reeling and yet he was having a hard time concentrating on a single thought.

"Well, see, Jenny and Patty Collins, the Transfiguration and Charms professors here, have asked if the two of us would be their dates."

Almost as soon as it had started, the drumming in Scorpius's ears stopped. He pulled his hand back away from Albus's almost violently. "Why should I agree to something like that?" he sneered. "This whole Winter Ball nonsense is a waste of time."

Albus was slightly taken aback by Scorpius's reaction. He had no way of knowing the real reason as to why Scorpius had suddenly become so defensive. Scorpius knew, but did not want to admit it to himself that he was actually disappointed. That was almost a foreign feeling. "Because they have been very kind to me since I arrived here. They are my friends and they have asked me a favor. In turn, since you're my friend, I'm going to ask a favor of you,' Albus explained, looking at Scorpius hopefully.

Scorpius wanted so badly to turn him down. He wanted to refuse. But, looking at Albus's eyes, he could not bring himself to do it. Albus obviously fancied one of the Collins sisters if he was pushing this adamantly. As much as it pained him to do it, he nodded his head weakly. His shoulders slumped as he muttered, "Very well."

Albus leaped to his feet with excitement, completely unaware of the internal battle that had just taken place within Scorpius. "Thank you Scorpius! Don't forget to wear something nice." Albus just shook his head, hearing his own words. "Actually, what am I saying? What I should have said was wear something nice that is not too formal. This is a school ball, not a Ministry function."

"Fine, fine," Scorpius muttered, getting to his feet, walking to the door, opening. "Now, if you have no more asinine requests, I need to get up in time to go to Dragons Camp before class tomorrow morning."

"Have fun," Albus said, wearing a bright grin as he walked out of the room. He paused in the door frame, turning his head slightly to glance up at Scorpius. "I will see you for lunch? Usual place?"

"Of course." And with that, he bid Albus a good night. He would not sleep well, but he was sure Albus would have no such problems.

* * *

><p>Scorpius had slept for only a couple of hours that night. When he awoke, the sun was just barely beginning to show its face. He had no doubt that most of the other residents of Peppertongue were probably still fast asleep. Except for maybe Headmaster Rutherford or Doctor Huerta. Neither man seemed to ever sleep.<p>

Gathering his belongings, he slipped out of the school as quietly as he could. He still had a few hours before his morning class and he needed a few things to restock his paltry supply closet. It seemed that much about him had not changed since he was a student. He was always running around at the last minute because he overestimated the contents of his stock room.

As he walked from one supply store to another, gathering his preferred brand of supplies, he could not help but feel as if he were being watched. He could not see who it was when he would casually toss glances around. Even in the morning, Dragons Camp was rather crowded. It seemed the shops opened exceptionally early. Or maybe they never closed. Scorpius could not recall ever seeing a posting for store hours.

He had been about to enter a small cauldron supply shop when a familiar voice called out to him. "Well, well, if it isn't Scorpius! I haven't seen you since you quit." It was O'Connor, the brash Defense Against the Dark Arts professor from Zenbazi. Normally, Scorpius would have smiled to see the older man, but he had not seen him since he resigned from Zenbazi. Now, watching O'Connor rubbing his dark red beard, Scorpius just felt on edge around him.

"Is there a reason you should have?" he said quickly, his words coming out a lot harsher than he had meant for them. "We do not belong to the same school any longer."

"Whoa, there, fire cracker, slow the hell down," O'Connor said with a wide grin, holding his hands up defensively. "Why are you so snappy? Those Peppertongue kids that tough on you?"

"No. I..." Scorpius began and then trailed off. O'Connor was always a strange one for Scorpius to understand, even when they were working at the same school. Nothing seemed to bother him. Scorpius almost felt sheepish now. "Aren't you upset with me?"

O'Connor just laughed. When he realized that Scorpius was being serious, he slowed to a confused chuckle. "Why would I be upset with you?"

"I abandoned Zenbazi," Scorpius spat out, his jaws clenched. "I left my post."

For what felt like an eternity, silence fell between the two men. Scorpius shifted from one leg to the other, feeling the discomfort in the air. Without warning, O'Connor snorted. "I'm sorry," he gasped out, his large body trembling as he tried to keep from laughing, "Are you from the past?"

It was Scorpius' turn to look confused. "What?"

"'I abandoned Zenbazi'? 'I left my post'? Who the hell talks like that anymore?" O'Connor was laughing loudly now as he threw an arm around Scorpius' shoulders, pulling him into a hug. Scorpius squirmed as he always did. "Don't freak out so much, Scorpius. You just found another job." He finally let Scorpius go. "Hell, our schools are a twenty minute walk from each other. You're not even that far."

Scorpius could hardly believe what he was hearing. O'Connor really did not care that Scorpius had changed schools. Was it really not a big deal? "I don't understand."

"Yeah, no shit," O'Connor said with an over-exaggerating rolling of his eyes. Leaning against the brick wall of the shop, he looked Scorpius over. "Scorpius, have you been ignoring me because you thought I was mad?"

Feeling his cheeks turning pink, Scorpius looked away shamefully. When O'Connor put it that way, Scorpius felt rather childish. "Maybe," he muttered. He cringed as soon as he heard his own voice. He even sounded like a petulant child.

"For such a smart guy, you can be downright stupid at times," he said, beginning to grin. "It was obvious you weren't happy at Zenbazi. There wasn't a day that went by I didn't think you weren't going to snap and hex one of your students."

"Was I that obvious?" Scorpius moved to stand beside him. He didn't want to block shopper traffic, even if few people walked down the narrow corridor to that cauldron shop.

"I don't know if it's just a Malfoy thing or a Scorpius thing, but you have quite the, uhh, flair for the theatrical," O'Connor offered.

Scorpius smiled ruefully. "I believe the common term in your country is 'Drama Queen'," he added. When O'Connor looked surprised, he continued. "The students of Peppertongue are quite willing to be honest, it would seem."

"Yeah, well, that's because it's true, kid," he reached out, ruffling Scorpius's white blond hair. "But listen: when you were at Zenbazi... you were miserable, but when you're around those Peppertongue kids, you seem so much more relaxed."

Reaching up, Scorpius swatted O'Connor's large, calloused hand out of his hair. With a huff, he tried to smooth it back into place "How would you know?"

"Because at the Dueling Tournament few days ago, you were actually grinning wider than Albus," O'Connor explained. Scorpius could feel his blush returning. "And if the Halloween party is anything to judge him by, he grins like an idiot."

"Was I really?" Scorpius asked nonchalantly, or at least doing his best impression of nonchalance.

"Yeah. I think his dad might have even taken a picture of the two of you nut jobs."

Oh god. Scorpius's heart fell. If Harry Potter had taken a picture like that, he was sure he had shown it the entire Potter-Weasley clan by then. Oh well, he would have to cross that bridge when he got to it. "My embarrassment aside, what's your point, O'Connor?"

"My point, my little blond friend, is if you keep ignoring me over some made up bullshit you keep trying to tell yourself, I'm going to have to resort to kidnapping in order to take you out for a pint on occasion." Scorpius looked up at O'Connor, but the man looked dead serious.

That just made Scorpius grin. "Are you serious?"

"I would never joke about pints, my friend. On my mother's life."

Scorpius sighed, resigning to the silent agreement he now had with O'Connor. He supposed going out for drinks with someone who wasn't a lightweight like Albus would be fun. "Things really are different now, aren't they? I suppose waiting for someone to give me permission to move on with my life would be foolish."

"No kidding," O'Connor agreed, lightly punching Scorpius's arm. It hurt a little, but Scorpius didn't complain as he rubbed his arm. The pain made him feel a little better.

* * *

><p>"Hello?"<p>

Scorpius suddenly stood up straight. He looked around to get his baring. His mind had drifted. It was doing that more and more often. He was sitting in the cafe on the second story of the bookshop, enjoying lunch with Albus as he normally did. Albus was leaning forward slightly from his seat across from Scorpius. He looked worried. Scorpius hated seeing him like that. "What?"

"What are you thinking about, Scorpius?" He asked quietly, voice dropping in volume so only Scorpius would be able to hear him. "You've seemed distracted for a while now."

"It's nothing," Scorpius replied without missing a beat, his voice remaining at its usual volume. "Just thinking about my students."

"Any student in particular?" Albus asked curiously as he leaned back against his chair. Scorpius watched as he dropped four cubes of sugar into his cup of tea. He made a face. Albus always did like his tea disgustingly sweet.

"You know which one," Scorpius muttered, unable to hide the distaste from his face.

"Lucas," Albus said. Silence fell between the two men.

Scorpius reached up to rub his forehead. He did not want to discuss such matters, but the look on Albus' face made it clear that the matter would not simply be dropped. "Yes, Lucas. I think Belrose might have told him something. He has been antagonizing me at every chance. "

Albus rolled his eyes. "Well, you have been far from kind to him as well."

"What?" Scorpius demanded, clearly a little offended. "I have been perfectly civil." Now, anyway. Granted, he had to remain ever so slightly inebriated to keep up that appearance, but Albus need not know of that particular part...

"Maybe you have been civil, but you haven't exactly been treating him like your other students, and he is not an idiot, Scorpius," Albus chided. "What is it about him that gets under your skin so much?"

"I don't know," Scorpius lied, his voice quieting now. He picked up the tea pot to pour himself another cup, but changed his mind, setting the pot back down, cup unfilled.

"Is it because of his...?" Albus trailed off when he saw the dark look that washed over Scorpius' face. He tried again. "Is it because of Belrose?"

"No..." Scorpius attempted.

"Yes," Albus corrected.

Scorpius conceded. "Yes, I suppose it is. I don't know. Whenever I see him, I just... think of Belrose. I know it isn't fair."

"You're right. It isn't fair," Albus said, sitting up a little straighter in his chair. "It is all a bit of a surprise, actually."

"Surprise?"

"Well, when I was in school, I knew a young man who would bend over backwards just to get people to view him as something more than just his father's son," he explained.

Scorpius could feel his cheeks going bright red. He remembered himself in those days. He lost count of the number of fights he got into due to people calling him a coward's son, a traitor's son. He was embarrassed he had not recognized the similarities until now. It really was not like him. "I get it."

"Do you really?"

"Yes. It won't be easy, but I will try to be nicer to him," Scorpius promised. "After all, it is not him I hate. Being upset with him would just be childish, would it not?"

"Yes. It would." Albus was pleased that he had managed to get Scorpius see reason without much resistance. He had become much easier to manage since he left Zenbazi. Yes, Albus was very pleased with himself. He rewarded himself with another lump of sugar. Scorpius grimaced.

* * *

><p><strong>December 17, 2031<strong>

Lucas had woken up that morning with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Ever since he left the safety of his dormitory, he felt as if there were eyes on him. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. A few times he had looked around and had seen Scorpius Malfoy glancing in his directions. Lucas would scowl in return, but Scorpius would just give him a weak smile and look away. The feeling of being watched was not coming from Scorpius Malfoy. Lucas could not explain how he knew, but while he and Malfoy had been on bad terms since he arrived to teach at Peppertongue, that particular morning, Malfoy at least tried to be...nice. It was probably Albus's doing.

The eyes Lucas felt on him, however, were filled with pure loathing. Even in their most heated arguments, Malfoy never looked at him like what he was feeling. At least not anymore.

Despite his uneasiness, he said nothing to Matthew or Logan. He did not like to burden his friends, especially with something so unsubstantial.

After lunch, Lucas said goodbye to his two friends, Matthew giving him a quick peck on the cheek, before he slowly walked to Potions. Normally, he dreaded being in class with Malfoy. The older man always seemed to hate him for no reason. He was always antagonizing Lucas with snide comments. He had tried to like Malfoy, for Mr. Potter's sake, but it was impossible. His mother had explained to him the sort of man Scorpius Malfoy was before she had left. At least, he thought it was impossible until that day.

All day, Malfoy had been polite to him. He had not raised his voice and had not insulted him. He smiled on him on a number of occasions. Lucas almost wished for the old Malfoy back. He was unsure of what to make of the changes.

Sitting in the crowded classroom, Lucas dug in his bag for his potions book. When his fingers touched cold glass, he quickly pulled his hand back. When curiosity got the better of him, he reached back in and pulled out a small vile. It was unmarked but had a piece of twine tied to the cork. At the end of the sting was a small tag. It read: 'Use for a laugh'.

Lucas chuckled. He had mentioned to Logan a few days ago that he had been bored in potions lately. It was a little a cryptic for Logan to just slip the vial into his bag, but he supposed it just added to the intrigue. He looked at the silvery liquid. He had no idea what it was, but then, Logan was always experimenting with new concoctions. It was probably something from his store room. Knowing Logan's penchant for the fantastical, it would probably cause any potion to explode into rainbow confetti. Logan could be a bit of a strange one.

When the door opened and Malfoy walked into the classroom, Lucas quickly shoved the vial into his back pocket. He figured he would slip it into his cauldron later when the lesson started properly. Lucas eyed Scorpius curiously.

He was dressed much more casually than any class previously, wearing a simple dark green shirt and casual black slacks. His sleeves were rolled up around his elbows already. Standing in front of the class, he grinned wide, setting his bag down.

"Everyone, gather around," he instructed, waving for his students to gather around the cauldron in the front of the classroom. "And, please do take notes this time, Jeremy. As brilliant as your drawings may be, I would rather not have to give this lesson a second time because certain students would rather doodle than take proper notes," he teased.

Jeremy Cooper, an outgoing young man by all accounts, was taken aback by his professor's good mood. It tended to mean better marks for him. "Hey, at least you think my drawings are brilliant."

Malfoy just chuckled at that. The mood was infectious and the students began to chat among themselves while Malfoy set out all of the ingredients. Scorpius had to admit, Albus's suggestions for how to deal with his students really did seem to be having an almost immediate effect. Even Lucas had finally stopped glaring at him.

When he reached the bottom of the bag, he furrowed his brows, digging through the bag. He sighed. He had forgotten the pearl root extract. He was about to tell his class he would be stepping out for a moment when he had a better idea. "Mr. Rutherford, please go to my office," he said, Lucas looking shocked at the request. "In the cupboard there, you'll find a black box with vials of Pearl Weed extract. Bring those here. Please, lock it when you're done." He held a rung of several small keys.

They were to all of his potions supply cupboards and he was actually trusting Lucas with them. Nodding his head, numbly, Lucas took the keys as he walked to Scorpius' office.

The box had been easy enough to find. It was a nice box, the black actually a solve velvet. It had the store's crest on the front. Lucas recognized it as Suzy May's. It was an expensive shop that most people couldn't afford. Somehow, Lucas wasn't surprised that even when it came to supplies for a simple potions lesson, Malfoy spared no expense. It annoyed him a little.

When curiosity got the better of him, he opened the box. His eyes widened as he saw a dozen vials, all of them filled with a familiar silvery liquid. He took out the vial he had put in his back pocket and compared the two. His was slightly more opaque and a bit more on the blue side, but it was hardly noticeable, especially if one was not looking for such differences. It was then that Lucas had an idea.

Taking the tag off of his vial, he switched it with one of the ones in the box. He had been planning to sabotage his own potion for a laugh if that day's lesson proved boring, but ruining Mr. Malfoy's potion was much more amusing. Sniggering to himself, he locked the case and returned to class.

By the time Lucas returned to class, Malfoy was in the middle of explaining the potion they would be working on for the day. Apparently, it was some sort of flame repellent. Lucas had no idea. He never bothered to read ahead. He wasn't sure if he ever even opened the potions books if it wasn't for an experiment. Potions were Matthew and Logan's specialty, not his.

When Lucas returned his keys, Scorpius smiled at him and thanked him. Lucas felt a little bad for a moment but quickly put it out of his mind: it would just be a little joke. During the whole lecture, Lucas kept mentally sending Malfoy thoughts. He had wanted Professor Malfoy to use the bottle he had put in there for his demo of the potion. When Malfoy actually picked up the bottle, Lucas tensed with excitement. If whatever-it-was worked really well, they could fine tune it and show it off to Mr. Weasley during their internship that summer.

Malfoy poured the liquid into the brewing potion, but nothing visibly happened all the while her stirred the mix, alternating between clockwise and counterclockwise. Just when Lucas was about to give up hope that the contents of the strange vial worked at all, the potion Scorpius had been stirring suddenly turned a pitch black, sending up plumes of green smoke. Lucas grinned for a moment before the smoke hit his senses. He and the rest of the class began to retch as the smell of rot filled the class.

Through the smoke, Lucas could see a look of horror washing over Scorpius's face as he began to pour all manner of ingredients into the violently bubbling mix, his actions erratic and desperate.

Suddenly, the potion shot a column of black liquid right up to the ceiling. The sprays landed everywhere, hitting tables, chairs, and students. The room was suddenly filled with agonized screams as the black liquid began to eat away at whatever it touched like a potent acid, be it object or flesh. Scorpius was covered in it, but other than a firmly set grimace, he did not react.

"Everyone, get out! Now!" he screamed, pulling out his wand, attempting to create a barrier around the bursts. The students did not need to be told twice as those who had not already made a move for the door darted out, going right to the medical ward to have their wounds treated. Someone had set off the alarms.

The mix continued to buck violently against the barrier that Scorpius was struggling to maintain. The cauldron was completely lost in the swirl of acidic black liquid and green flames. It was in that moment Scorpius realized that he was trapped. If he tried to leave, the shield would weaken and the ensuring explosion would catch him and his escaping students. If he stayed, it was only a matter of moments before the shield broke down anyway. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Lucas pushing the other students out of the classroom, remaining in the back of the group. That strengthened Scorpius's resolve and he knew what he had to do. It would only buy his students a few additional seconds, but it would be enough for them to get clear away from the scene, he was sure of it. In any case, he had to give them that chance.

When all the students had poured from the large lecture hall, Lucas took control of the group. He ordered them to get to the infirmary as soon as they could to take care of their wounds. Lucas had been sprayed by the black mass as well, but he was not feeling the effects of the burning as badly as the others. He had just wiped it off of him and the burning seemed to have already stopped. "Come on everyone! Move it!" he screamed out, over the sound of the alarms.

They had just reached the stairs at the far end of the hall when, behind them, a large explosion erupted from where their potions hall used to be. Lucas felt the heat against his back more than he saw the actual explosion. The sound had been enough to push the other students on, all of them running to Huerta's infirmary now. Lucas remained where he was, eyes wide.

Swallowing thickly, he turned around. Nearly half of the hall had been blasted out into the Quidditch field, charred rubble littering the ground below. The rain from outside that was now falling inside of the roofless hall was helping to put down the green flames. Lucas found himself walking towards the blast zone. He couldn't help himself. "Mr. Malfoy?" he asked weakly, inching towards the class now. There was no response from inside of the class room. But that was impossible. Scorpius had been in there. He had not escaped with the rest of them.

The observation windows had been knocked out, but he could not see within the room, dark green smoke pluming out. When the smell of burning flesh hit him, he covered his face with a sleeve and scrambled back.

From down the hall, he could hear rapid footsteps and voices calling out. "Scorpius!" It was Mr. Potter's voice that caused Lucas's heart to sink. He looked from Mr. Potter's growing form back to what remained of the Potions Hall. Turning on his heels he ran towards the approaching teachers and past them.

He found it difficult to breath. He had to get away. He had to forget that sickly white look of anguish on Mr. Potter's face.

* * *

><p>Down below in the basement of the school, Lucas lost track of time. He remained sitting in the corner of one of the observation decks. He could hear the ghosts sobbing miserably. In the corner he put what remained of his sweater. By then, the acid had eaten through most of the material. Luckily, none of that accursed potion had managed to hit his jeans. Sitting on the cold concrete floor, wearing very little that could protect him against the cold, Lucas shivered. He allowed the chattering of his teeth join in with the sounds of the ghosts. Anything to keep his mind from replaying the day's events. Everything had gone wrong within a matter of seconds, but when Lucas thought about it, it felt like hours. Hours he could have spent saving Mr. Malfoy.<p>

"Lucas? Are you down here?" Albus's gentle voice rang down the halls. Lucas lifted his head up from his knees. "Please, I just- I just need to speak with you."

Lucas wanted to remain silent. He did not want to see his miserable face. He did not want to hear that he had accidentally been the cause of Scorpius Malfoy's violent death. But something about Albus's voice made him speak. "I'm here, Mr. Potter."

Albus found the room and walked over to where Lucas was. Sitting beside him, he took off his jacket and slipped it around Lucas's shoulders. Lucas could feel tears pricking in his eyes. Albus was smiling but even in the dim light, he could see his eyes were red from crying. "Lucas, please, can you tell me what happened?" It broke Lucas's heart to hear Albus trying so hard to keep his voice steady.

"I don't know," Lucas lied. For the first time, a lie actually left a bad taste in his mouth. "Everything was going fine, and then he looked scared."

"Scared?" Albus asked. His voice was beginning to tremble.

"The potion began to smell horrible. It burned a little to breathe. He suddenly started to scream at us to get out."

"Why didn't he follow?" Albus' breath hitched as he asked.

Lucas wasn't sure if he was really being asked, but he answered anyway. "I don't know. There were a few smaller explosions, but he..."Lucas trailed off for a moment, trying to calm his own breathing before continuing, "but he stopped them from getting out of hand."

Albus looked away from him. Lucas could see his hand clenching so tightly his knuckles were turning an eerie white.

Lucas continued. Even if it hurt Albus, he had to continue. It was like a confession, a compulsion. He could not stop himself. "That last one. It was too big. It blew out the windows... the whole floor shook. If he hadn't stayed behind to keep the barrier in place, the whole floor and everyone on it might have..."

"Thank you, Lucas..." Albus quickly said, cutting Lucas off. His voice was stronger than it had been the whole conversation.

"F-for what?"

"For..." And then Albus's resolve broke down. Unable to help himself, he dissolved into tears. Hours ago, he had gone to the Potions Hall when the alarm sounded. When he saw the damage, he had screamed out for ordered the other teachers take Albus away to calm him. He had not seen Scorpius, but the looks on the others' faces was all he needed to know that his chances were grim.

* * *

><p>For the most part, working as the live-in doctor for Peppertongue was a rather easy job for Huerta. He spent much of his time reading or relaxing and only on occasion had to treat the odd broken bone, scrapped knee, or stomach ache. Thanks to the many concoctions he had already brewed up and ready for such cases, few students ever had to stay overnight.<p>

But there were times when even he was caught off guard. That day was one of those times. It was sometime in the early evening when the alarms activated in the school. Huerta assumed that some student had set something on fire, a common enough occurrence, but when students turned up to his office, he knew that day would be one of the days he dreaded most.

The students were panicked. They were trembling so bad he could hardly observe them properly. He had them all change into different clothing first, their other ones splattered with a strange acidic black substance. Once he had them in beds and sedated, he got to work curing their wounds. The burn marks were familiar.

Years ago, before Huerta had joined the school, he worked medicine in quite a different capacity, and not one he liked speaking about , but few others did. But it was thanks to those early years that he knew how to counteract the acid.

In the old days, they would call them Black Bombs. It was common place during territory wars to slip the enemy the potion. Whatever that potion touched became fuel. A Black Bomb formed in a case of ale, for example, would be potent enough to kill everyone in a small room within a matter of seconds. A Black Bomb formed in a cauldron of fire-repelling potion could have easily blown half of the school and everyone caught in the blast to oblivion.

The traumatized students blurted out bits and pieces of what happened, but Huerta did not really need to hear their words to know what had happened. He had seen it many times before. He did not see Scorpius. He could guess why not.

Hours later, he finished with the last student and had them sleeping peacefully in bed. He had forbidden visitors and had several of the other professors take shifts watching over them. If one of them woke up, they would need consoling. Gathering up his tools, Huerta made the silent trek up to the Potions Hall, or what was left of it anyway.

The halls were quiet. Most of the students had been moved to the other side of the school until the halls could be fixed the next day. Down the hall from the Potions room, Huerta slowed. The rain continued to fall and the floor was drenched. Steeling himself, Huerta stepped over the rubble and made his way to the front of the room. The room was a mess. Takes and chairs had managed to almost completely dissolved before the other professors had arrived and covered everything with the counter agent. Everything smelled burned. The distinct odor of charred flesh was not lost on Huerta. It was not a smell that anyone could easily forget.

He stopped when he reached the hunched body of Scorpius Malfoy. He sighed. It was moments like that Huerta despised his chosen profession. Just that morning, Scorpius had been laughing at his jokes. It was too cruel. Scorpius was finally beginning to become well-liked and now he was gone. Huerta crouched by the body as he looked it over.

The corpse was lying curled up on the floor behind what was left of the podium. The blast from the explosion had tossed Scorpius's body against the wall, and that was where Huerta found him. Where the cauldron had been were the remnants of a very powerful shield. Had Scorpius not stayed behind to maintain that shield, Huerta had no doubt that the students in his infirmary sleeping peacefully would have instead been on their way back home to their parents to be buried.

Taking a look around the classroom, Huerta could piece together Scorpius Malfoy's final thoughts. He wasn't sure if Scorpius knew what it was he was dealing with, but he was sure someone so well trained would have noticed the danger it posed. At great risk to himself, he had chosen to protect his students. Huerta couldn't say he expected anything less from a man who took his position as a teacher so seriously.

But it didn't matter. Nothing would make writing to his family any easier.

Crouching by Scorpius's body, he reached out to pull it away from the wall. He groaned as the flesh tore from the corpse. He choked down a scream when the mass of flesh under his hands began to squirm. A groan came from what used to be Scorpius Malfoy's face.

Huerta's eyes were wide as he hoped to his feet and moved back away slowly. "What the hell?" he asked aloud, unable to take his eyes off of the body. Scorpius Malfoy's body was a complete mess. The flesh was burned mostly off, bones were showing and shattered. It hardly looked human any longer. And yet, despite all that, it was still moving.

Despite all reason, despite all evidence, Scorpius Malfoy was still alive.

Pulling out his wand, Huerta pointed it at Scorpius. He intended to end his misery. It would be quick. And yet, he found his hand shaking. It was not mercy. Huerta had been through too much to have such feelings. It was curiosity. Scorpius Malfoy was supposed to be dead and yet there he was, very much alive. Looking over his shoulders just to make sure none of the other professors had decided to come looking, Huerta resolved to understand just how it was that Malfoy wasn't the charred corpse he was supposed to be.

Gently levitating the body, he put it on the stretcher he had brought with him. Making sure to cover it all with a blanket he took it down to the quarantine room of the infirmary. He would be able to keep news of Scorpius's survival from getting out until he was ready for others to know.

For hours, Huerta split his time between caring for the students and his little side project. Scorpius Malfoy quickly became an object of great interest to Huerta. Sitting by his bed, he ran his calloused fingers down Scorpius's burned chest. Scorpius, in a state not quite like consciousness, shuddered and moaned weakly. The burned flesh began to slowly pull away, revealing fresh, unmarred pink skin underneath.

Huerta could hardly believe his eyes. Scorpius Malfoy was healing faster than Huerta had ever seen before, and he was doing so completely unaided by any sort of magic he recognized. He had no idea what to make of it, but he had his enchanted pen scribbling away, recording everything Huerta discovered.

It felt like every minute that passed, something more miraculous would happen. Bones were reforming, muscles stitching back together, skin and hair regrowing. Huerta did what he could to help the process, treating him as he would any other patient. He kept Scorpius hydrated and comfortable. He cleared away all of the discarded skin. He applied whatever salve he could think that might help. He wasn't sure if Scorpius even needed that sort of assistance, but it helped to ease the painful groans, so Huerta did not regret doing so.

By morning, the healing process finally seemed to be complete. Huerta made note of the time. In about fourteen hours, Scorpius had recovered almost completely. He lay naked in the infirmary bed, his skin completely free of any marks, only slightly red from fever.

Huerta licked his lips slightly. He had been in the infirmary for hours now, without a break for food or water. But it didn't matter. He had just witnessed something amazing. It was almost too stunning to be real. Unable to help himself, he reached out to Scorpius. Tentatively, he ran his fingers through Scorpius's white blond hair. The locks were soft, without a single sign of damage. He moved his fingers along Scorpius's skin. The cracks and gashes were completely gone. He moved his hand down to Scorpius' face, opening one eye gently. The eyes that had been burned were just as they should be.

Suddenly, Scorpius's eye rolled to the front and he was looking right at Huerta. In an instant, Scorpius had bucked up against him. Jumping out of the bed, he attacked Huerta. With a cry, Scorpius pinned Huerta to the wall.

If it weren't for the fact that Scorpius had pilfered Huerta's wand from out of the pocket of his lab coat and was currently pressing it rather painfully against his throat, the whole situation would have been quite amusing to the doctor. Scorpius was naked, feverish, and shaking, his eyes half lidded from exhaustion. Even if he had been at his full strength and clothed, Huerta was much taller and stronger than he was. If he wasn't afraid of hurting his patient, he would have just taken his wand back. His wand was rather finicky in any case. If anyone but Huerta tried to use it, it had a habit of tossing the spell back in their faces.

"If you say anything, I will kill you," Scorpius said, his voice rough. Huerta was not that surprised. His voice box had just healed.

"You don't scare me," Huerta said as he reached up and very easily took repossession of his wand. Scorpius was currently so weak he could hardly keep standing much less maintain any grip on the wand he had stolen. Putting the wand away, Huerta caught Scorpius easily as his knees came out from under him. "All you are going to do is go back to bed. If you're good, I may even get you some pajamas."

Scorpius was quiet as he was put to bed like some kind of child. If he did not feel so exhausted, he would have offered some sort of protest. He rested back against the pillow, turning his head. It felt nice against his warm cheek. "Aren't you going to ask me how this is possible?" he asked softly.

Huerta just shrugged as he finished setting Scorpius to bed. "Would you tell me, even if I did?" Scorpius was quiet. "Exactly." Going over to what was left of Scorpius's belongings, he pulled out his wand. Scorpius' face lit up. Huerta held it out and Scorpius snatched it away instantly. He was the sort of man who needed his wand at his side at all times, Huerta knew that much.

"I propose a trade," Scorpius suddenly blurted out, looking hopeful.

"Interesting," was the reply. "What could you possibly have to offer me?" Huerta had a feeling he knew, but they had time to kill.

"I will tell you exactly how I was able to survive that explosion, but... in exchange..." Huerta nearly chuckled. Scorpius really was predictable.

"Silence, right?" Huerta offered.

Scorpius nodded. His expression looked hollow. Poor Scorpius, Huerta thought.

"I suppose you have a deal," the doctor said. He might have a sadistic streak when it came to his sense of humor, but he had not reached such depths that he found humor in harassing his own patients.

Even though he had been the one to suggest the arrangement to begin with, Huerta's answer genuinely seemed to shock Scorpius. "Really?"

"You sound surprised," Huerta said with a chuckle, putting away his papers.

"I wasn't expecting you to go for it, actually," he explained weakly.

"Then you underestimate my curiosity. Who knows, maybe I can be of some help."

"Help?" he asked incredulously. Now that was the Scorpius Huerta knew. "What makes you think I need your help?"

"It's my experience, boy, that deals with the devil are rarely in your favor." Silence hung heavy in the air. Scorpius seemed like he wanted to argue. He opened his mouth to attempt to speak a few times, but nothing came of it.

Eventually, he just slumped and sighed. "Fine."

"For now, get some rest," the doctor ordered as he went over to the door, turning the lights off. "I'll let Albus know... that rumors of your death have been greatly exaggerated."

"Thank you, doctor." It was nice to see that despite having threatened to kill not a minute prior, Scorpius had not forgotten his manners entirely.

"Not a problem," Huerta said softly, stepping out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him. He walked to his office and put the papers away somewhere safe for review later. It was then that he remembered something. When Scorpius had first arrived at the school, Huerta had caught him while he was on his way to speak with Albus. Scorpius had looked like he had been mugged and was in a terrible state. He had tried to assure Huerta that he would be fine, but Huerta had dragged him off the infirmary anyway. Scorpius had looked bemused the entire time.

If Scorpius had always had this ability, then Huerta now understood why Scorpius had smiled that day. Giving him a bandage for a wound was the same as giving a fish swimming lessons-completely unneeded. He just hoped that he could prove useful to Scorpius in other ways now that he was aware of the little secret. Not just for his curiosity, but for his safety. He would have to watch himself around Scorpius. Desperate men were capable of anything.

* * *

><p><strong>December 19, 2031<strong>

"Oh come on, Scorpius, don't look so glum. The girls will think I forced you to come along," Albus said. Scorpius decided that O'Connor had been right. Albus did have a habit of grinning like an idiot. It had been only a few days since his "accident" and, at Huerta's insistence, he wore a sling and a few bandages. They were completely unnecessary, of course. Scorpius did not have a single scratch on him. Huerta had insisted that no human would have been able to walk away from that incident without at least some wounds.

Reluctantly, Scorpius was forced to agree. For two days, he played the part of the sick patient. Albus was by his side whenever he wasn't in class. His students had poured in as well, giving him gifts and well wishes. Many broke down into tears when they confessed that they had been sure he had died. He assured them that he really was fine and insisted they go prepare for the Winter Ball. He would be there as well, he told them, and he insisted that if they were going to skip classes for it anyway, they might as well enjoy themselves.

Albus was harder to convince. The way he acted around him, it was almost as if he didn't believe he actually survived. He would often fall asleep by Scorpius's bed. Scorpius finally had to get Rutherford involved in order to force Albus to go to his bed and get some proper rest. After much argument, Scorpius managed to convince Albus that he was fine to get out of bed.

"You practically did, you know," Scorpius replied, adjusting his tie with his left arm. He almost adjusted it with his right before he remembered that it was supposed to be broken. He visibly tensed when he caught his mistake at the last moment.

Albus thought Scorpius tensing meant that he had hurt himself. He stopped walking and looked at his friend, looking for any signs of pain. "Are you still feeling ill? Maybe you ought to go see Dr. Huerta again..."

"What? No, I'm fine." Scorpius sighed. Albus really was a bit of a mother hen sometimes. He reminded Scorpius a little of that over bearing grandmother of his.

"Are you sure? I mean, it's only been a few days since your accident..." Albus trailed off. The look on his face told Scorpius that he was probably looking for any excuse to march Scorpius right back down to Huerta's infirmary.

"Look, I said I'm fine. Now come on." Taking a hold of Albus' hand firmly, he walked with him down the hall to where they were to meet the Collins sisters.

"Are you sure?" Scorpius fought the urge to shake Albus. Even his own mother wasn't so overprotective.

"I am," he insisted, looking over his shoulder at Albus. He grinned. "It'd be a shame if you got all dressed up but had nowhere to go because of me."

Albus sighed. He sounded annoyed. Good, Scorpius thought. "Alright, now you are just making fun of me."

"So, which one?" Scorpius suddenly asked.

Albus looked startled by the sudden question. "What?"

"The Collins sisters," he explained. "Which one do you like?"

"Neither," Albus said quickly before adding, "Well, both."

Scorpius turned his head to look back ahead of them as they walked. "Had no idea you were into that. Not one to judge though," he teased.

"Oh, shut up. That isn't what I meant," Albus sneered, rolling his eyes. "I mean they're both my friends. Jenny likes you though," he added.

It was Scorpius's turn to roll his eyes. Jenny was not the first girl to fall for him and probably wouldn't be the last, but it didn't matter. "I'm not interested."

"It's been ages since you dated anyone, Scorpius. Actually," he began, furrowing his brows as he through back to their time at school. "I don't remember you ever-"

"Look, here they come," Scorpius quickly interjected as they stopped by the grand stair case outside of the grand hall where the ball was begin held, the music spilling out to where they were. Albus stopped his reminiscing as he glanced up. Jenny and Patty Collins, both of them young and beautiful, were just walking down the stair case to meet them. Jenny wore black and Patty wore blue. Patty went over to Albus and gave him a tight hug, thanking him quietly for helping to set her sister up with Scorpius.

Albus glanced over to where Scorpius was. He and Jenny Collins looked so beautiful together. There was something about the regal way both of them carried themselves. Jenny held a hand out and, without prompting, Scorpius took it and kissed the back of it.

"Scorpius."

"Jennifer."

Their salutations were brief, but Albus's heart sped up. He watched as Scorpius held an arm out for Jenny and they both entered the Grand Hall. Albus should have been happy that Scorpius might have found someone who understands his sensibilities. From what Patty told him, the Collins were actually a pure blood family. If something became of Scorpius and Jenny... Albus should have been happy about helping a friend, but he wasn't. He almost felt a little disappointed.

Patty saw the look but said nothing. Giving Albus a smile, she dragged him off to the Winter Ball. Albus did his best to put Scorpius out of his mind. He danced with Patty, spoke with friends, playfully gave his students a hard time, did anything he could think to ignore the way Scorpius and Jenny danced, bodies pressed together so perfectly.

He had just been on his way back to Patty with two glasses of punch when he saw Scorpius rushing out of the hall, Lucas quick on his heels, calling for Scorpius to stop. Shocked, Albus scanned the Grand Hall. He saw Paula rushing to her confused, annoyed sister. There, in the distance, he saw what had sent Scorpius flying like a shot.

Belrose, her arm in Rutherford's, stood there speaking with a nervous looking Matthew. She looked up and saw Albus. She grinned at him. His heart sank.

* * *

><p>"Wait! Mr. Malfoy! I said wait, goddammit!" Lucas screamed out as he ran after Scorpius all the way outside, onto the grass. The rain was falling violently, soaking through their suits.<p>

"What do you want, you petulant child?" Scorpius snapped as he turned on his heels. Lucas, unable to stop himself in time, slipped on the soaked grass and practically crashed into Scorpius. The older man grabbed him instinctively before pushing him away, disgust on his face.

"I... about what happened in potions," Lucas panted out. "I thought I'd..."

"Killed me?" Scorpius snarled, practically laughing. Lucas had never heard such a cruel laugh before in his life. The hair on the back of Lucas' neck stood up. "Don't flatter yourself! Compared to what I've faced in my life, you are a minor fruit fly, buzzing around my head!"

"But... I thought for a second there you really had died. But then...you just... were alright the next day," Lucas tried to explain, his teeth chattering.

Scorpius took a step towards him. "Don't think too much about it."

"But you just-"

Lucas's words were suddenly cut off as Scorpius grabbed Lucas's mouth with his right arm, the one that had been in the sling. Lucas squirmed, but Scorpius kept his hold firm. "When I said 'don't think', that was an order, not a suggestion. If you know what is good for you, you will put what happened out of your mind and return to the ball," he spat out, tossing Lucas to the ground.

"Mother is taking me away tonight," Lucas blurted out. He had no idea why he did it, the words just spilled out. He looked up at Scorpius from his spot on the ground.

Seeing Lucas like that, trembling in a suit that was too large for his slender frame, blue eyes large and full of shock, Scorpius calmed. Seeing Belrose had been unexpected. But he had made Albus a promise. Kneeing beside Lucas, he grabbed a hold of him, helping him to his feet. "Do not fall so easily for her tricks, Lucas."

"You're actually calling me by my first name now?" he said with a grin. Scorpius shook his head, feeling a migraine developing. Letting go of Lucas, he turned to walk in the direction of Dragons Camp. He needed a stiff drink.

"I'll see you after the holidays, Mr. Malfoy!" Lucas called after him. Scorpius just flinched. He wished he could have gone back to just hating Lucas. It was much easier that way.

Lucas continued to smile was he watched Scorpius disappearing into the night, towards Dragons Camp. His mother had said so many horrible things about Scorpius. He had tried to be obedient and hate him, but he was finding it increasingly difficult. Scorpius was an odd man, but he genuinely cared for his students. He had risked his own life to save his students.

Just that once, he was willing to let his mother be wrong about someone. Scorpius Malfoy was as good a man as Lucas had thought. He would tell him so after the holidays.

* * *

><p>Scorpius's eyes fluttered opened. He was in one of the pubs in Dragons Camp. From the smell of scrambled eggs cooking at midnight, he knew it was Donovan Pitcher's place. He served breakfast upon request, no matter the time. He had to admit, the pub was rather cozy even if the wood from the table was a little coarse on his cheek.<p>

"Scorpius, is everything alright?" Scorpius sat up weakly, the blood rushing from his head. He reached up to rub at his cheek. "You never came back. Jenny was quite upset with you."

Slowly, Scorpius got to his feet. He must have wavered in his step because Albus reached out to steady him. "I think I'm just going to go pack up. I leave by Portkey in a few hours."

"So early?" Albus asked in surprise.

"The time difference, remember?" Scorpius replied with a bit of a shrug.

"Oh, I suppose that makes sense," Albus muttered. Smiling a bit, he maneuvered Scorpius back into his seat, sitting beside him. "Well, let's have some breakfast then. We should celebrate the end to an eventful term!"

Donovan walked over to them, reaching out to ruffle Albus's black hair affectionately before giving him a menu. The old pub owner was quite fond of Albus, and even Scorpius. The Potions teacher just sighed. It seemed even if he wanted to leave, Donovan would just glare at him if he left Albus on his own. "You just want me to buy the drinks, you little con artist."

Albus just grinned brightly. He was not about to deny the accusation. "Come on, Scorpius! You make more than I do!"

"Fine," he relented. A smile crept across his face. It was difficult to be really upset when Albus was around. His worries seemed petty whenever Albus was with him. "But if your parents ask, I never indulge you."

"Are you joking? Everyone in my family thinks you're some kind of saint," Albus informed him, matter-of-factly. "Or at the very least, adopted."

Scorpius smiled as he picked up a pretzel stick, flicking it at Albus. Perhaps the next few hours would be much more enjoyable than he thought.

**TBC**


	9. Such Wondrous Things

**Author's Note: [07/06/2012] **Just made some grammar/continuities corrections. Happy Reading!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9<br>"Such Wondrous Things"**

* * *

><p><strong>December 20, 2031<strong>

The Portkey that Astoria Malfoy had set up for her son's return was placed just outside of the Malfoy estate. Her husband, Draco, would not allow her to bring down the shields surrounding their home, not even long enough to welcome their son for the holidays. Astoria knew full well Draco's reasons and had not pushed the issue. The following days would be difficult enough.

She stood there by the Portkey wheel barrow. She had charmed the area around her so that the rain would avoid falling onto of her. If she could not bring her son into the estate directly, the least she could do was make sure that son was not drenched. At exactly half past nine in the morning, there was a flash of light. Beside the wheel barrow now stood her son. She had not seen him in nearly two years. He looked thinner than she remembered and he had dark bags under his eyes. When he saw her, he smiled. Tossing his bag over his arm, he walked over to her. "I'm home," he said simply, as if he had been gone only a few hours.

Astoria could feel her eyes well with tears. "Welcome back, my darling," she said softly, clutching her silk handkerchief in her hands.

"Mother, I am so sorry."

"You have no idea how worried you made me and Father, Scorpius. We were worried sick these last few weeks. I trust young James Potter was kind enough to deliver the sweets I sent you," she said, dabbing her eyes.

Scorpius chuckled lightly. "He did. I am surprised that Father would actually go and ask for Mr. Potter's help just check up on me..."

"Your father would have gotten on his knees and begged if that is what it would take to make sure you were alive and well," she said, reaching up to cup Scorpius's cheek. "But you knew that already."

Scorpius smiled as he nodded his head. "I did. I do," he said, hugging his mother tightly, breathing in the smell of her perfume. When he pulled away reluctantly, he looked around. "Father didn't come to meet me? Is he... upset with me?"

It was Astoria's turn to chuckle. "No, no, it isn't anything like that."

"Was it something with the Ministry? Is Father alright?" He asked quickly, becoming incredibly worried. If something had happened to his father while he had been foolishly wasting time in California...

"No, no, not quite. It... well, Scorpius, it has been a difficult last few days for your father. For all of us, really. Come on. Let us go home and I can explain it all to you over a cup of hot tea."

* * *

><p>"So you think you're funny, do you?" Teddy asked as he sent a flower vase hurtling towards Albus's head. Luckily, being a teacher seemed to have done wonders on Albus's reflexes and he easily dodged the projectile.<p>

He had a feeling he knew what had Teddy so upset. "Hello to you too, Teddy," he greeted as he went over to the kitchen, counter, sipping at his warm tea.

"Do you have any idea how embarrassed I was over that Howler you sent? Everyone thinks I'm some sort of pervert now," Teddy huffed, his hair turning a bright, unnatural red.

Albus just shrugged before looking over at his cousin, feigning innocence. "What normal person would send his cousin naked pictures of ladies via owl? Face it, Ted: you might have some flavor of sexual deviancy."

Before Teddy had a chance to say anything else, James, who had until then been sitting rather quietly, watching the scene unfold naturally, interjected. "Speaking of ladies, Albus... well?"

Albus arched one brown as he looked over the rim of his mug curiously. "Well what?"

James and Teddy now surrounded Albus, grinning from ear to ear. "Don't be an arse, Al! Ladies! Californian ladies!" James declared, putting an arm around his shoulders, "You went to their beaches. You saw them. In bikinis... and tanned skin..."

"And..." Teddy cried out, making a jiggling motion with his hands at his chest. Albus rolled his eyes. Teddy really had to stop watching all of those terrible movies. They were really warping his perception of American women.

"Yeah, and that," James agreed, pulling Albus even closer, ruffling his hair. "So tell us everything!"

"I hate to burst your bubble," Albus said, pushing away from his brother and cousin, "but I didn't really go to the beach at all. Believe it or not, there are parts of California that are not by the beaches," he said, setting his cup down. "I was in one of those places. But it was nice. Lots of sun."

"I can tell," said a voice behind him. When Albus turned around, he smiled brightly.

"Mum!" he cried out, going to the older woman, hugging her tightly.

"Oh, Albus," Ginny said, hugging her youngest son. Moving away from the hug, she lightly stroked his cheek, "I am so sorry I wasn't able to visit you in the States. Bloody useless writers-"

Albus just laughed as he hugged his mother again. It had been months since he had seen her last. "It's quite alright, Mum. Just knowing you wanted to be there is enough."

Ginny grinned at that. Moving out of the hug, she swatted at his arm playfully as she went to the kitchen to make some tea. "And I'm sure the food I sent along with your brother was equally appreciated?"

"Always," Albus assured her as he took his cup, following her into the kitchen.

"Did you share some with young Scorpius? He always was a skinny boy. He looks like he hardly eats nowadays. Not healthy at all," she said, getting out the ingredients for dinner with a flick of her wand.

"What?" Albus' eyes widened. Had he said anything about Scorpius to her in the letters he sent? He doubted it. Albus had made sure to keep rather private about his dealings with the Malfoy heir.

When Ginny saw the look of shock on Albus's face, she laughed. "Oh! I'm sorry, just blurting things out like that," she said, motioning for him to sit down at the kitchen table.

Albus did as he was told, but he tossed angry glares over at where James and Teddy were at the entrance to the kitchen, "Did James tell you that Scorpius was there as well?"

"Actually," she said, beginning to chop the carrots, "I saw the pictures before James had a chance to tell me." Pictures? What pictures was she-? Suddenly Albus remembered. His father had been taking pictures during the dueling tournament before the holidays. "Not that he wasn't excited to tell me all about the miserable time that poor boy was having teaching," Ginny continued, "You know your brother. He's got a bit of a fixation on the youngest Malfoy."

"Mum! " James cried out indignantly as he and Teddy walked into the kitchen. "It's a rivalry, not a fixation."

"Same thing," Lily said, pushing past her older brother, rushing to the cabinets, looking for the box of cookies her mother had put there the previous night.

"Shut up, gremlin!" James cried as he darted after her.

"Make me, troll face!" Grabbing a handful of cookies, Lily tossed them at James as she darted out of the kitchen, James rushing after her. Teddy took off after the two of them a second later when he realized just what had happened.

Albus watched run off as he shook his head disapprovingly. "It's amazing to think they're adults now. James, I understand, but you would think Teddy would know better," he muttered, getting up to pour himself a cup of tea, just as the kettle started to whistle.

"Albus, some people never change," Ginny said as she put the knife down. Wiping her hands, she went over to the refrigerator. Taking a picture off of the door, she showed it to Albus as she grinned, "But I'm happy to see that some people do."

Albus could not help but groan as he saw the picture. "Oh god..." His father really had taken pictures at the tournament. Albus could not quite remember when that particular moment was, but it was still humiliating. He was jumping wildly, cheering for his team. Scorpius was sitting beside him, looking up at him as he laughed. Eventually, he would reach out and grab Albus, pulling him back down to the bench.

"Don't look so embarrassed!" Ginny insisted as she turned the picture so that she could look at it. "I think the two of you look really happy! Was this what you two were like in school?"

Shrugging, Albus busied himself with the tea, not wanting to look at the picture. At least not while his mother was around. If it wasn't for the fact it was documented proof he was not always in control of his emotions, it was actually a rather nice picture. "A bit. Except, back when we were at Hogwarts, I would be the one cheering and he would – well, he always liked to be in the spot light."

"What do you expect? He is still a Malfoy."

Albus turned around at the new voice at the kitchen entrance. "Uncle Ron!" Albus walked over to the older man, hugging him.

"Hello there, Al," Ron said as he returned the hug. "Your Aunt's still in the Ministry, but she sends her regards. She will be here tonight for dinner."

Before Ron could say anything else, a flutter of wings turned their attention to the window. A large, fluffy Great Grey Owl settled on the window sill. It had a dark green envelope with a silver wax seal. The Malfoy crest embossed in the wax shown in the light. "Oi, is that... Malfoy's owl?" James asked as he, Lily, and Teddy walked back into the kitchen, all of them covered in cookie crumbs.

"His name is Scorpius, James," Albus chided as he walked over to the Owl. "Hello, Artemis," he said softly, stroking his fingers through his feathers as he took the letter, giving her some bread. As Albus opened it up, reading it, he found himself crowded by his family. Only his mother stayed where she had been.

"Well, what's it say?" Lily questioned, leaning forward, trying to get a better look. Albus moved the letter closer to himself, not wanting his nosy sister to see more than he wanted. He knew she could read upside down, so he made sure to keep the letter close.

"Ah, he wants to know if I want to meet up with him tomorrow for lunch," he summarized, "He wants to show me something." Albus laughed as he read the letter again and again. He had forgotten just how formal Scorpius could be when it came to actual letters. He had actually addressed him as Mr. Albus Severus Potter. Scorpius used to send him such letters for holidays or other events, but when it came to simple lunches, a simple note was normally all he sent. For him to go through such trouble for lunch made Albus a little worried, but he tried to push that thought to the back of his mind.

"Tell him you can't," James demanded, making a grab for the letter.

"James!" Albus cried out as he pulled the letter close, ducking away from his relatives, going to stand by his mother.

"Look, you already work with him most of the year. He can just see you when the holidays are over. This is a time to be with your friends and family," James explained, marching towards Albus, obviously intending to take the letter away from him.

"Scorpius _is_ my friend," Albus defended, scowling at his bother. He normally relented when James was particularly insistent, but when it came to Scorpius, Albus refused to budge.

"James," Ginny said, her tone of voice a warning to her eldest son to watch himself.

"Fine," James said with a sigh, finally relenting when he saw that look on his mother's face. "But don't say I didn't warn you. No good ever came from being friends with a Malfoy." And with that, he promptly walked from the kitchen. Teddy and Lily looked from James's retreating form to Albus, then to each other. After a few seconds of quiet deliberation, they left the kitchen as well.

When it was just Ginny, Albus, and Ron, Ginny suddenly shot a hand out, slapping her brother on the back of his head. "Ow! What in the bloody hell was that for, Gin?" Ron demanded, rubbing the back of his head.

Ginny, however, looked far from repentant. Grabbing the carrot she had been cutting, she threw it at her brother. "He gets it from you, you know. All this Malfoy nonsense." Albus chuckled a bit as he watched Ron quickly duck. He enjoyed his family's antics much more when they did not directly involve him. "When will you act your age? How Hermione can keep from _strangling_ you, I have no idea."

"Oh come on, Gin... Give your older brother some credit, would you?" While his Uncle Ron tried to reason with his fuming mother, Albus took that time to slip out of the kitchen.

He had just made it to the stairs when he felt an arm around his shoulders. "Well, are you going to go, Al?" Lily asked as she walked up the stairs with her brother, glancing up at him curiously.

"Of course," he answered, slipping the letter into his jacket pocket, "Scorpius doesn't normally ask for things from me. But it's a little weird."

"What is it?"

"He says to dress nicely." That had also been very strange, at least for Scorpius. Normally, they both dressed rather well. For him to specify a dress code for a supposedly simple lunch struck Albus as being out of character.

"Maybe it's a date?" Lily suggested, unable to help an impish grin that crossed her face. Albus rolled his eyes. Some people really never change.

"Lily..."

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

* * *

><p><strong>December 21, 2031<strong>

Normally, Albus avoided travel by Portkey if he could help it. The feeling of being tugged by the bellybutton was not one Albus particularly liked. There were times, however, when travel by Portkey was simply unavoidable, especially recently. The first was when he was returning from California. He was about not about to get back on that air plane if he could help it, so he had his father arrange for a Portkey.

The second time was when Scorpius arranged for them to meet out of Malfoy Manor for lunch. Albus had no idea where it was, so he could not Apparate there and flying there would just take too long. Luckily, for Albus, the fresh air of the field outside of the Malfoy estate helped to ease his nerves. As he looked around, he smiled when he saw Scorpius. Hugging his coat tightly, he walked over to him.

"Hey Scorpius," Albus said. For a moment, he contemplated if he should give him a handshake or a hug before he went with the latter.

Scorpius had been a little surprised, but had returned the hug nonetheless. "Hello, Albus," he said, giving him a weak smile as he eventually pulled from the hug. Motioning for Albus to follow him, they began to walk away from the Malfoy Manor in the distance.

For nearly ten minutes the two men walked side by side in silence. They walked down a country path. Albus saw no one else for miles around and no cars even drove past them. Finally, shivering in the cold, he had had enough of the silence. "So, will you ever tell me where it is we are going, Scorpius? I put on a suit for you and you know how much I hate these things."

"I have a confession to make," Scorpius finally said, slightly turning his head away from Albus.

Albus's mind began reeling. Was it Belrose? Was someone hurt? Was Scorpius in danger again? It could have been a million different things and Albus's mind was showing him all of the worst possibilities. "W-what sort of confession?"

"I have brought you here on false pretenses. Well, partially false pretenses," he corrected, tilting his head slightly.

"Don't look so glum, Scorpius," Albus encouraged. Whatever it was, he would be there for his friend. He would. Reaching out, he patted Scorpius's shoulders. "You look like you're going to a funeral."

"We are."

That was enough to quiet the pair of them once again. What could Albus say to something like that? He tried to think of all the people they both knew. Who could have died? He hadn't heard of anyone from his family, so he assumed it was someone he and Scorpius both knew through Slytherin. Was it someone their age? Someone older?

In silence, they walked and walked through the cold. A light blanket of snow fell over them as they continued on, side by side. At some point, Scorpius put a hand on Albus's back, leading him off of the main road, up a hill. In every direction, it looked like a simple hill, about an inch of snow coating the landscape. But then, when they stepped through the barrier, the reality of the area became evident. It was a graveyard. In the distance Albus could a man and a woman, standing in front of a set of gravestones. A few meters from them stood a small group of spectators, all of them wearing veils.

For a moment Albus thought they were mourners, but then he realized that they veils they wore were enchanted to obscure their features. They were not standard dress for any funeral had had been to.

Scorpius stopped some distance away from the group, half hidden behind trees. He looked on at the eyes, his expression unreadable. It was then that Albus found his voice again. Reaching out, he gently put a hand on his shoulder. "Scorpius?" he tried softly. When Scorpius turned his head slightly towards him, Albus continued, "Scorpius, who died?"

"My grandmother and grandfather," he answered with an air of nonchalance as he turned his full attention back to the funeral in front of them.

Albus's eyes widened in shock. Scorpius's grandparents? Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy had passed away? He supposed if they had been Muggles, it would have been expected, but compared to other witches and wizards, they had died relatively young. "Scorpius, I am so sorry," he said in a hushed voice.

"You are not," Scorpius muttered softly. He sighed, his breath visibly rising in the cold. "Not many people are sad to see them go."

Albus turned his attention back to the funeral some distance away. Draco Malfoy seemed much older than Albus had ever seen him. He stood there, posture rigid as he looked down on the tomb stones. His wife, Astoria, was speaking with the group of mourners who stood a distance away. Albus could not hear what she was saying, but from the way she shook their hands, she was obviously thanking them for coming. "Who are those people in the veils? Are they friends of your family?" Albus supposed it was possible. Scorpius never spoke much of his family, but he figured it was not beyond the realm of possibility for those people to be extended family. Though why family would wear Obscuro-veils and stand a distance away like that, Albus had no idea.

"They are Mother's friends and colleagues from the Ministry," Scorpius explained, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. "They are here to support her, but do not want to be associated with the Malfoy line."

"I'm sorry."

"I already said you are n-" Scorpius's voice trailed off when he felt Albus take his hand, squeezing it tightly. After glancing down at their hands for only a brief moment, Scorpius turned his attention back to the funeral.

The two men stood there in the falling snow for nearly an hour before Draco and Astoria Malfoy as well as the other guests finally left. Only when they were alone did Scorpius lead Albus towards the graves.

"What happened to them?" Albus asked softly, his voice only barely audible. Scorpius slipped his hand away and Albus thought that he had asked an insensitive question. He was about to apologize when Scorpius began to speak.

"My grandfather was found dead in Knockturn Alley," he said simply, reaching out to brush off some of the snow that had settled on the grave stones. "He was slumped over dead in the alley behind Borgins and Burke."

"Your grandfather, was he sick?"

Tossing a glance over his shoulder at Albus, Scorpius held that gaze for several long moments. He did not have to answer that question. Lucius Malfoy had not been ill. Lucius Malfoy had been killed.

"And...your grandmother?"

"I don't know."

Albus tried to hide his shock. He was not sure what was more surprising: the fact that the cause of Narcissa Malfoy's death was still a mystery or that Scorpius Malfoy would openly admit he did not know something so crucial.

* * *

><p>Albus and Scorpius had only stayed at the graves long enough for the both of them to pay respects. Scorpius had told Albus he did not need to bother, but Albus had insisted. He had only met them a handful of times, but they had always been very polite to him. It was difficult to believe they had ever been associated with the Death Eaters from the War.<p>

When they finished, they began the trek back to the Malfoy Manor. Now that the funeral was over, Scorpius was in much better spirits. The two of them chatted about nothing in particular as they walked side by side along the country road. Scorpius had insisted that Albus stay for dinner at the Manor. Albus had never actually been to the Malfoy Manor so while he was nervous at the prospect, he was excited as well.

Albus's eyes widened when he realized how big Malfoy Manor really was. Grimmauld Place was tiny in comparison. In the distance he could see white peacocks and he grinned.

Before Albus could tease Scorpius about the birds, Scorpius swore under his breath, realizing that he had forgotten his key. They were far too many charms and barriers on the Manor to allow for any sort of unlocking charms to be of any use. Luckily, Scorpius's parents had returned home some time ago, so Scorpius simply knocked on the door.

Albus was expecting a House elf to let them in, so he was a little shocked when Draco Malfoy himself opened the door. His eyes were red, probably from crying, and he looked exhausted. He had probably just been expecting Scorpius alone because when he saw Albus, his face became even paler. "Potter?"

"This is Albus, Father." Scorpius said quickly, "Remember?"

"Albus..." Draco muttered before a look of recognition crossed his expression, "Oh yes." Stepping aside, he led both young men into the Manor. Albus was taken aback by just how lovely it looked inside as well. He had always assumed that the Malfoy Manor, from the stories he had heard of it from his own family, was a dark, frightening place, something like a haunted house. Instead, it was actually very beautifully decorated. All of the furniture was antique, hand-crafted, and incredibly expensive. It all looked to be in pristine condition. The whole Manor had the aroma of the fresh flowers set in all of the vases.

As Albus sat down, he looked up to the ceiling. They were hundreds of floating crystal balls filled with highly luminous light that beamed out in all directions. Between those and the large fire places, everything was visible. It was so different from the perpetually messy nature of his own home. "Let me get you something to drink," Draco offered once Albus and Scorpius were seated by the fireplace.

"No need to trouble yourself, really, Mr. Malfoy," Albus insisted. Draco's parents had just been laid to rest. The last thing he wanted to do was to have Draco waiting on him.

"Nonsense, Albus dear," Astoria Malfoy said as she walked into the room. She did not look like she had aged at all since Albus saw her last.

He got up to properly greet her. "Hello, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Draco, why don't you go to your study?" she said softly, gently touching Draco's shoulder. He looked at her with an expression of loss. She just gave him an understanding smile. "I will bring up tea in a few minutes." Draco just nodded his head as he muttered an "excuse me" as he made his way out of the room and up the stairs.

"I will make the tea, Mother," Scorpius said quickly as he hurried from the room as well, leaving his mother and Albus.

Astoria thanked her son before turning her attention to Albus, causing the young man to freeze in his spot. "Let's have a look at you Mr. Albus Potter," she said as she walked right up to him confidently, looking him up and down. With a grin, she nodded her head approvingly. "You have gotten taller than your father, as I suspected," she said before she rested one hand under her chin easily, giving Albus a charming smile. "Though, to be fair, your father is a little on the short side."

Albus could not help but to smile. He had met Scorpius's mother several times during Quidditch games and he had liked her instantly. Even James thought she was a very kind woman. Too kind to be Scorpius's mother, he had declared some years ago. "Just don't tell him that, Mrs. Malfoy," Albus said with a light laugh as they both sat down on the couch. "My Aunt Hermione is a little taller than he is and rubs it in on occasion."

"I won't. I have never seen a more competitive woman in my life, I assure you, Albus Severus," she said, chuckling lightly. "I must admit, it makes Ministry meetings more interesting. It is a shame she had not been sorted into Ravenclaw!"

"Ravenclaw?" Albus asked, his head cocking to the side a bit. What did Ravenclaw have to do with- suddenly it dawned on him. "Mrs. Malfoy, you were a Ravenclaw?"

From the way she laughed, it was obvious that Astoria Malfoy was used to such questions. "Believe it or not, being in Slytherin is not a prerequisite for marrying a Malfoy." Albus flushed. "My sister was a Slytherin, though, and she was the one who introduced us."

"I suppose it was rather presumptuous of me to just assume you were a Slytherin," Albus muttered. Thinking back, he supposed he always had a feeling that Astoria Malfoy had not been in Slytherin. She did not strike him as someone who would fit in well in the Dungeons.

"Think nothing of it, Albus," she assured him. "Many people think I would have made a fine Slytherin. I consider it praise, considering my political aspirations."

"I heard about it from my Aunt," he said, obviously thankful for the change of subject. "They say you may be running for Minister in a few years."

"I do not want to make anything too official just yet, but let us say that it is not a particularly farfetched rumor."

"Well, you would have my support, Mrs. Malfoy." Astoria just laughed at Albus's words, making Albus's grin widen. He genuinely did like Scorpius's mother and from what he heard from his own family, most people in the Ministry liked her as well.

"What a flatterer! I can see why the Sorting Hat put you in Slytherin, Mr. Potter. After dinner, send an owl to your parents letting them know that you will be staying the night. No complaining, Albus, I insist." Her expression softened now. "It is rare for Scorpius to bring a friend home."

Albus's grin the widened. "Well, if you insist, Mrs. Malfoy."

* * *

><p>After several rounds of tea, Astoria Malfoy declared that it was time to prepare dinner, so the three of them had moved into the large kitchen. Albus could have imagined that at some time, it was the home of many a House Elf, but it did not look like there were any left. "So you do all the cooking yourself, Mrs. Malfoy?" he asked, watching as she and Scorpius gathered all of the ingredients for dinner. Instinctively, he began to roll up his sleeves as well. "I would have just assumed that you had a House Elf…"<p>

"House Elf? No, no. Nothing like that,"Astoriasaid, laughing a bit as she put on an apron, giving one to Albus as well.

"Actually, Father does most of the cooking," Scorpius added, as he began to peel a potato, his hands running the knife blade against the brown skin expertly from years of practice.

That revelation shocked Albus. No matter how he imaged the older Malfoy, he could not see him donning an apron and actually working in the kitchen. Such an image seemed contrary to the prim and proper view he had of Draco Malfoy. "W-what? _Draco Malfoy_ cooks?"

"My husband learned a thing or two about cooking after the War,"Astoriasaid, beginning to chop onions. "Cooking can be quite therapeutic."

Scorpius just snorted at that. "And let us not forget that his side of the family went completely bankrupt with reparation payments. Though I suppose poverty was better than going to Azkaban."

"Whatever the reason," she said, giving her son a stern looking, "he is quite the chef now. That is probably a good thing because I am actually quite rubbish at cookery."

"She makes a good assistant, though," Scorpius said to Albus as he set some carrots in front of him for cleaning.

Albus smiled as he began to do his part in making dinner. He was glad that they had allowed him to help. He would have felt awkward just sitting while they worked. "Actually, I had no idea that you could cook either, Scorpius."

Scorpius smirked. "I _am_ a potions master. I am good at following directions."

"I have seen you at work, Scorpius Malfoy. Your work shows so much heart. It is so much more than just following directions mindlessly and you know it!" Albus declared, visibly annoyed that Scorpius would undervalue his own abilities.

Scorpius just sniggered as he rolled his eyes, glancing over at his mother. "He may have been sorted into Slytherin, but he will always be an insufferable Potter at heart. I should have known better than to invite him."

"Don't listen to him, Albus. You are welcome here anytime,"Astoriasaid, laughing as she reached out to slap the back of Scorpius's head lightly. "It is quite rare for Scorpius to bring someone home. You must be something special."

"Oh, believe me, ma'am, I am," Albus responded with a bit of a cocky grin, puffing his chest out slightly. "I am incredibly brilliant and fascinating as well."

"I only keep you around because you are so modest and humble," Scorpius muttered, tossing a bit of potato at Albus's face. He ducked out of the way, his reflexes honed after months of teaching rambunctious children Defense. Smirking, he grabbed an end of one of the discarded carrots and quickly stepped behind the scene but said nothing as Albus suddenly pulled the neck of Scorpius's shirt back and dropped the bit of carrot. Both Astoria and Albus began to laugh as Scorpius squirmed, threatening to hex Albus once he got whatever it was out from under his shirt.

* * *

><p>Dinner had been surprisingly uneventful. Despite having put his parents to rest just hours earlier, Draco was a hospitable host. Scorpius could see from the smile on Albus's face that he was enjoying himself. Around his own family, Albus always seemed shy and awkward, the perpetual outsider. But with Scorpius's parents, he was charming. He may have been a Potter, but Scorpius could tell that even his father liked him a great deal.<p>

When dinner finished, Scorpius had taken Albus to one of the guest bedrooms in the East wing of the manor. He gave him a change of clothes. Albus had seemed nervous when he first arrived, but when Scorpius said goodnight and left him for the night, he seemed liked he had been living at the Manor his whole life.

Scorpius must have been a lot more tired than he had thought because he had drifted off to sleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. He enjoyed a dreamless sleep until just after two in the morning when he was awoken by the sound of his window being opened. Even without opening his eyes, he could sense movement in the darkness. His body moving like a spring, he was suddenly on his feet, his wand pointed in the direction of the movement.

"Identify yourself or I will kill you." If it were just a burglar, he supposed threatening to kill him was a drastic threat, but after all he had seen, Scorpius had learned to err on the side of caution.

"You don't know me," said the shadowy figure. Scorpius's heart sank. It sounded like a child. The figure moved in the darkness. Scorpius tensed once more, ready to unleash a flurry of spells if needed, but the other figure spoke first, creating a small light in the room. "My name used to be Clarence White," spoke a young man. He had short cropped blond hair and delicate features. His green eyes, however, were hard and betrayed the young man's true nature. Scorpius was sure it matched his own eyes.

"You look familiar," Scorpius muttered relaxing only when he watched Clarence set his wand down on the ground, holding it hands up. He doubted he had met such a young man in person, but his face was familiar from somewhere.

"I was a student at Peppertongue."

That was where he knew Clarence from, Scorpius realized. On his first day of teaching potions, he had been going through all of the student folders. That was when he had been told by the principal that one of his students, Clarence White would be out for the remainder of the term for medical leave. Clarence's file had had a picture. That young man was and was not the man standing in front of him now. That Clarence had looked shy, trying to hide behind his long blond hair. He had looked normal, if a little awkward in his own skin. The Clarence currently standing in front of him made Scorpius uneasy. "You are supposed to be on medical leave and I doubt any doctor prescribes breaking and entering."

For a moment, a look of hurt seemed to cross Clarence's expression before his features settled into the unreadable mask once more. "You don't remember," he said simply.

Scorpius narrowed his gaze, practically glaring at him now. "Remember what?"

"It doesn't matter. I really must apologize."

"For waking me up so rudely?" Scorpius suggested, setting his wand down. It was obvious that if Clarence had meant to attack him, he would have already.

"That. And for your 'accident' a few days ago. I just needed to make sure you were all they said you were."

Scorpius suddenly grew angry. He knew exactly what accident Clarence meant. He had thought Lucas had tried to play a trick and had simply been ignorance of what he was using. Now it seemed that the 'accident' was not an accident at all. He wondered if Lucas was even aware of the part he played in the plot. "They?"

Clarence, however, did not seem interested in answering Scorpius's question. "She gave you one then?" he asked, almost bored.

"What would you know about any of that?" Scorpius spat out, jaws clenched. He did not like where the conversation was going.

"I have one, too," he said, putting his hand on his chest. "She said she was rewarding my loyalty."

Scorpius felt as if his blood had turned to ice. He knew Belrose had many young followers in Russia, but he had not expected to find one from California. "If you think it makes you special-"

Clarence shook his head as he walked to the window, looking out at the moon. "I'm going to use it to destroy her."

"Are you now?" Scorpius asked, laughing cruelly. How many times had he heard that claim made by older, more experienced, more capable wizards? Too many times to be enthusiastic or optimistic. "Rather ambitious for a whelp, aren't we?"

"She took something from me I can't get back."

"So instead, you plan to get even."

"Exactly."

A long silence fell between the two young men. Scorpius watched as Clarence reached up to rest a hand against the window. In that moment, Scorpius hated Belrose more than he had ever hated her in his life. He had met so many who had been destroyed by her ambition, but it was only now that he had the clarity to really understand the price they all paid just so her dreams could be realized. Clarence was young and he should have been at home with his family enjoying the winter holidays, not in Scorpius's bedroom plotting murder. "So, that little explosion..."

Clarence shrugged one shoulder. He did not look particularly remorseful about nearly killing a classroom full of students. "I needed to know if you were as strong as they say you are."

Scorpius was finding him growing increasingly more agitated around Clarence. He was so cool and collected even while talking about having almost murdered Scorpius and his students. "If I hadn't been, I would have died. As it is, a lot of people, students, almost did."

"A few deaths are a sad necessity in the war we are about to wage," he replied coolly as he turned around, leaning against the window sill.

"Even if it's your own death?"

Clarence was silent as he examined Scorpius. He slowly began to smile, shrugging. "I've accepted that."

Scorpius sighed. He supposed there was nothing more for him to say. Once someone had their sight set on assassination, there was not much one could say. "How long has it been?"

Instinctively, Clarence rubbing at his chest. Scorpius could feel a pang of pain running through his own chest. It was not a feeling one could easily forget. "This will be my third year."

Scorpius looked at him in surprise. "Three years? You are cutting it a little close..."

Snorting, Clarence shook his head as he dug in his pocket, pulling out a pocket watch. From where Scorpius was, he noted that the watch did not have any numbers, just a single hand. He had no idea what its purpose was, but it felt ominous. "A lot closer than you, it seems. I'm already starting to feel the effects."

"It will be irreversible soon."

"Help me."

Scorpius crossed his arms across his chest. Finally, it seemed that they had gotten to the reason why Clarence had decided to trespass into the Malfoy Manor in the middle of the night. "Why should I?"

"You want to be free as much as I do, don't you? Join us and we might have a chance."

"I do not do well in teams."

Clarence smirked at that. It was the answer he had been expecting. "So I've heard from the others," he said, pulling out a small box, handing it to Scorpius. "Here."

Scorpius eyed the box suspiciously. It had what looked to be paper seals plastered all over it, keeping it closed. The seals were not the sort of magic one saw often in England. "What is this?"

"If you change your mind and wish to join us, just open that box. You'll understand what you have to do next," he explained before picking up his wand, slipping it into his jacket. Turning around, he went over to the window and opened it. He was poised to jump over the ledge when he paused. "Just one more thing. Stay away from Mr. Potter."

Scorpius scowled, unable to believe the liberties the child was taking. He had half a mind to hex him where he stood. Instead, he just spat out, "And if I don't want to?"

Clarence turned his head a bit to look at Scorpius over his shoulder. His cool expression held a shadow of sadness. "You know as well as I do that what we want doesn't matter anymore. Try to get some rest." And with that, Clarence jumped out of the room, disappearing into the darkness outside.

With a flick of his wand, Scorpius closed the window. Sitting in the bed, he examined the box. He looked it over and shook it, trying to figure out what was inside of it. It was as light as a feather and the paper charms shielded the box from any sort of magic. The only way Scorpius would know what was in the box was if he opened it. Doing so, however, would mean that Scorpius was willing to stand against Belrose with a group of strangers he had never met before.

Belrose had destroyed the last few years of Scorpius's life and he was not quite sure if he wanted to allow her to destroy what chance of a normal future he had.

* * *

><p><strong>December 22, 2031<strong>

"Good morning, Scorpius!"

Scorpius jumped a little as he practically ran into Albus on his way down to breakfast. He had forgotten that Albus had so much energy in the mornings. Maybe Scorpius was just the one with a deficiency. "Good morning..." he muttered in between stifling a yawn.

"Did you forget I was staying the night?" Albus asked as they both walked down to the kitchen. Albus's smile just grew when he finally caught sight of breakfast. There were eggs, bacon, sausages, pancakes, fresh croissants. His stomach growled as he quickly took a seat.

"Sorry," Scorpius muttered as he yawned again, taking a seat across from Albus. "I am not much of a morning person. Anymore."

"It is part of growing up," Albus assured him, pouring Scorpius a glass of orange juice.

"And getting older,"Astoria said as she walked from the kitchen, cups of tea on the tray she was carrying.

"Mother, stop it," Scorpius muttered, swatting his mother's hand away as she ruffled his unruly blond hair. It was far too early for him to have bothered to rush it just yet.

"Bothering our son this early in the morning, are you, Astoria?" Albus looked up to see Draco Malfoy walking out of the kitchen, setting an apron on a hook by the entrance. He glanced back at the food. If Scorpius had been sleeping until just a few minutes ago, it meant that it had been Scorpius's parents who had made breakfast. Draco Malfoy really was an amazing cook.

"Good morning, Mr. Malfoy!"

"Good morning, Albus," the elder Malfoy said as he sat down across from his wife. He even smiled. After seeing him look so lost and upset the day before, Albus was happy that he seemed in better spirits. "I trust you found your accommodations to your liking?" he asked, opening up that morning's Daily Prophet.

"I did, sir," Albus assured him before turning his attention back to breakfast. He was busy shoveling food into his mouth to notice when several owls swooped into the Manor, dropping off letters and packages.

It was then that a familiar black letter caught Scorpius's gaze. He had not seen such an envelope since he had been a student. He glanced over at Albus just to make sure his friend was still sufficiently distracted by the food. Keeping his wand under the table, he moved the unmarked envelope from the pile on the table to one of the drawers.

Albus noticed that Scorpius had not started eating and looked over at him worriedly. Scorpius had seemed out of sorts for the last few days, even before the holiday had started and Albus had been worried. "Scorpius, is everything alright?" he asked quietly, his voice sufficiently masked by the sound of Astoria and her husband's morning banter.

Scorpius cracked a small smile as he slipped his wand into the pocket of his bedroom robes. He would gather the letter he had hidden later. "About yesterday, thank you."

Albus laughed as he reached out, swatting the back of Scorpius's head in a friendly manner. "And here I was thinking something was wrong." His expression softened as he smiled at Scorpius. "You are my closest friend, Scorpius. I will always be by your side. You know that."

"I know," Scorpius replied, refilling Albus's glass of pumpkin juice.

* * *

><p><strong>December 23, 2031<strong>

The next morning, Scorpius Malfoy dressed in his best clothes and made his way to his Alma Mater, the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A part of him had been convinced he would never see the school again, but there he was in the Headmistress's office, having tea.

Much of the school was still out for the winter holidays, leaving only a few students and professors. He genuinely enjoyed his conversation with Headmistress McGonagall. Though he had never been very good in her subject of choice, Transfigurations having always been more of Albus's forte, Scorpius always held her in high esteem. In turn, she had shown him a great deal of approval when he was a student and, when he had first been accepted by his Master his Siberia, she had sent him a rather heart-felt letter, telling him how proud she was of him.

On that day, she had a few pressing matters, but had given him permission to wander the grounds.

For a while, Scorpius did so walking the same halls he once had as a child. He saw some of the current students and marveled at how tiny they all looked. He supposed at some point, even he had been that small. Eventually, he decided that he could wait no longer so he made his way down to the Whomping Willow, making sure no one saw him. The general lack of students made that a thankfully simple task. Muttering a quick spell to temporarily calm theWillow, he made his way down the tunnel towards the Shrieking Shack.

The Shack was as dank and as dirty as he remembered it. Despite Albus's protests he had snuck there a handful of times. Rumor had it that a werewolf used to live there. At some point, there was talk in the Slytherin common rooms of going to the Shrieking Shack to see if they could find any signs of werewolves, but when Albus mentioned that Severus Snape had been murdered there, talk of sneaking into the Shack diminished. The students were already intimidated by the scowling portrait of the old Slytherin Head of House and they worried if they went to where he had been killed, the portrait would know. Scorpius had insisted that even if Snape had been a master of Occlumency and Legilimency, that talent would not have been transferred to his portrait, but his words had fallen on deaf ears.

Personally, Scorpius had not given the Shrieking Shack much thought. It was dirty and decrepit. He figured the only thing that he would find in the Shack would be an easy way to get splinters and a torn uniform. The only reason Scorpius had spent so much time occupied with the Shrieking Shack had been because of Albus.

Back when they were in school, around their third year, Albus would get black envelopes a couple of times every month. He would never even open the letters. Without fail, when evening came on those days, he would take his Invisibility Cloak and sneak to the Shrieking Shack alone. A few times, Scorpius had insisted that he come along. When they would arrive to the Shrieking Shack, Albus would just sit on the bed and read. The whole situation confused him at the time, but as the years passed, he had begun to form a theory as to what brought Albus to the Shrieking Shack every month, like clockwork.

As he walked into the Shack, the old wooden door creaking open as he stepped into the old building from the tunnel, he grinned, his suspicions confirmed with a single word. "Albus!" spoke the ghost of a young man as he flew up from the wood floor. The man looked to be in his early twenties. He wore old, second hand ill-fitting robes. Even as a ghost his hair was inky black and looked greasy. When he saw Scorpius, the ghost's smile vanished. The ghost almost seemed to age in an instant, though that was probably just from the scornful scowl that overcame his features.

Scorpius thought that the witch who had painted Severus Snape's portrait had truly done an excellent job. "Malfoy," the ghost spat out.

Scorpius tried to not laugh as he walked into the room, flopping down on the bed comfortably. He glanced around the room. Almost everything in the room was covered in dust with the exception of a small pile of what looked to be unopened presents in one corner. He recognized the green, silver, and black wrapping paper. He knew Albus had not been sending those gifts to his parents, no matter what Albus had said. "I am afraid you have me at a bit of a disadvantage. You seem to know who I am, but we have never been formally introduced," Scorpius said easily, picking up a book from the half destroyed dresser drawer. It looked to be an empty diary. The ghost looked so angry he would have hexed Scorpius if he had his wand. "Though, I suppose that's not completely true. I have had my suspicions for years. It is nice to officially meet you, _Professor Snape._"

"I had sent for Albus Severus Potter, not for you," Snape insisted, not missing a beat. Even though he looked significantly younger than his portrait, it did not seem like he lost any of his usual bite.

"I know," Scorpius said as he pulled the unmarked black envelope from the breast pocket of his jacket.

Snape's eyes widened in rage, smashing a chair just above Scorpius's head. Scorpius just continued to grin, even as pieces of splintered wood fell on him. He had expected Snape to be annoyed with him. "You insolent little-"

"Child?" Scorpius finished. Getting up from the bed, he walked over to the pile of gifts. Picking one up, he began to unwrap it. "Come now, Professor, do not look so glum," he said, setting down a souvenir from Egypt before moving onto the next box. "I promise you, once I have received what I came here for, I will make sure Albus receives his letter and is none the wiser." He laughed when the next box he opened was filled with sweets. How did Albus expect Snape to enjoy them? Opening one of the boxes of Every Flavor Beans, he tossed a few into his mouth. "Though I do not understand your hatred towards me. What have I ever done to you?"

"I despise your eyes."

Scorpius looked a surprised and not just because one of the Beans had been pepper flavored. "Not a fan of my father, I take it?"

The more he was spoken to, the calmer and more in-control Snape seemed to become. "You may have Draco Malfoy's eyes, but not his look."

"I should hope not," Scorpius grinned, leaning against the window sill "From what I hear, I am much more handsome."

"And much more dangerous. People say such wondrous things about you, young Mr. Malfoy," Snape said with a slight smirk.

Scorpius quirked a brow as he shook his head. "As they should. I have done many wondrous things."

At that, Snape howled in laughter. It was a derisive laugh and it gave Scorpius a feeling of unease though he would never admit it. "Oh, if only they knew the real you."

"If you know the real me, Professor Snape, then you can probably hazard a guess as to why I'm here," Scorpius said as he set the candy down. He did not want to spend more time with Snape than was absolutely necessary.

Snape was no longer laughing. He glared at Scorpius now. Even as a young man, Snape scowled the same as he always had. "What makes you think I would share anything with you?"

"Lily Evans."

With that name, all of the windows in the room were suddenly blown out. Scorpius jumped at that. He knew Lily Evans was a sensitive subject with Snape, but he had not realized that it would make him so violent. Snape dove at Scorpius now, looking haggard as he screamed, "How _dare _you speak her name!"

Scorpius tried to maintain his own calm, collected demeanor. He could not give Snape the satisfaction of knowing he had shaken Scorpius. "I am here because of her... and her grandson."

He had cautiously avoided naming Albus, fearing that it would push Snape over the edge. Being alone in the Shrieking Shack for so long seemed to have made Snape as unstable as Moaning Myrtle. Luckily, it was unfounded fear, it seemed, as the mention of Albus actually seemed to calm Snape down completely. If anything, he looked mournful. "You are beginning to try my patience."

"Albus has his father's eyes." Snape winced, as if in pain, but Scorpius was unrelenting. "I suspect that's why you became his... friend. But if you do not give me the assistance I request, there will come a day very soon when Albus will be forced to take a life for me," Scorpius explain, his voice quiet, but firm.

Snape looked at him with an expression of pure hatred. "What makes you think he would do that? What makes you think he will not simply leave?"

"He will always be by my side."

"How do you know?"

"Because I will never let him leave." Scorpius grinned, Snape practically snarled.

"How could you sacrifice him?"

"A war is coming, Snape. No, perhaps it is better to say it is a long time coming. It has been a while since Voldemort's time."

"Do not speak his name so casually," the ghost hissed. "He was-"

"I know what he was," Scorpius said nonchalantly, brushing off Snape's nervousness as if it were nothing. "I did stay awake through most of Professor Binn's lessons. There are those who wish to outdo Voldemort while the world remains as ignorant as Muggles."

For a moment, it seemed like a look of fear crossed Snape's face. Scorpius did not envy the man. From what he had heard, Snape had died trying to defeat Voldemort in a war that was a distant memory for most. "Who? Who is coming?" Snape demanded. Scorpius smiled at that. He knew coming to Snape would be a wise decision.

"Not a single 'who'. There are those who have the ability and inclination to control Death itself.

Snape meditated on Scorpius's words for several long moments before he spoke, each word deliberate. "Have you thought that perhaps you are on the wrong side of this war, young Mr. Malfoy?"

"I have seen the world they want to create, Professor. Believe me, death is the better option."

Snape shot Scorpius a look. It seemed he was rather sensitive when it came to the subject of death. "Would you so willingly choose that option for Albus as well?"

Without hesitation, Scorpius nodded his head. "I would sooner cast the Killing Curse on him myself than let them have him."

"How casually you regard death," Snape said through clenched teeth.

Scorpius just shook his head, a sad expression on his face. The look was so sincere that it seemed to catch Snape off guard as well. For a moment, he did not look so angry. "I don't _want _to kill Albus. I..." Scorpius trailed off for a moment, trying to think of the right words, "care for him. I have seen firsthand what will happen to all of us if we lose this war. If I cannot stop it from happening, then at the very least, I can stop it from happening to him." Snape said nothing, just continuing to examine him. Scorpius was no longer hiding behind his normal pretense of confidence and charisma and Snape seemed to be seeing the young man for the first time. His expression was softer than Scorpius had ever seen it as he began to sink through the floor boards. "So will you help me?" Scorpius pleaded.

"I will send you a letter for when I wish to meet with you once more," Snape muttered as he disappeared. Confident that he had conveyed the severity of the matter, Scorpius left the Shrieking Shack.

* * *

><p><strong>December 24, 2031<strong>

"Severus! Are you here, Severus?" Albus called out as he stepped into the Shrieking Shack, dusting off some of the clumps of dirt that had managed to fall on him as he had made his way to the Shrieking Shack.

"Albus, there you are," Snape called out as he floated up from the floor boards. He was smiling gently as he normally did whenever Albus came to visit him.

"Hello, Severus! Sorry I'm a little late. McGonagall wouldn't let me leave until I had a few cups of tea with her," he said, walking over towards him. "Look," he said, pulling out a set of books from the satchel he carried. The books were rather heavy so he was glad his Aunt had taught him how to charm his bag. "I brought you a gift from California. I remember you mentioning how you wanted to read about some of the current advances in potions," he said, pulling up a chair. "Oh, I don't know if you know this already, but Scorpius Malfoy and I are teachers at the same school now! He was the one who recommended these books." Snape stilled for a moment, his smile wavering for a moment.

"They are lovely. Thank you, Albus," he said, floating towards the books. Holding a hand out, the top book opened, its pages fluttering past. "I contacted a few colleagues of mine. The spells you wanted me to research, both of them are derived from the ancient spell _Frangat. _It is a very old spell." Albus nodded his head as he pulled out a small note book, quickly scribbling notes. Snape smiled to himself. Albus was always a good student. "It is mentioned only once by the wizard poet Hinnelbach the Pious and not directly by name. He simply called it the 'spell to shatter,' but what you described to me is exactly as it is in the poem." Albus frowned at that. Snape knew what Albus was thinking, so he continued. "However, how your young student knows it, I cannot begin to say. No one has used it in centuries. There is not even a description of how to properly cast it in all of the books I have examined. My colleagues confirm."

Albus sighed softly. Bringing the pen up to his lips, he idly chewed it. He used to do the same to his quills, Snape thought to himself. Floating near Albus, he settled near him. He had been so lost in thought, enjoying Albus's company that he was only partly paying attention when Albus spoke again. "Why was such a spell mentioned in a poem? Perhaps I can understand it more if I knew its original context."

Snape shook his head. "Much of the poem has actually been lost due to the Salem Witch Trials," he explained. "From the parts that remain, it seems to be a story of a young witch who lost her family to the Hunts and in her rage, shattered the world of the Muggles as they had shattered hers."

Albus gulped nervously. He had a feeling he would not like what Snape had to the Muggles of the poem. "Severus, what became of her? Of the Muggles?"

"The end of the poem is lost, so no one knows what ultimately became of her, but the last lines of the poem that have been found speak of a gust of wind that blows through the village with all of the rage of the gods above to shatter the guilty like so much glass."

"She... kills them?" Snape looked at Albus worriedly. He feared he had perhaps said too much. "Severus?" Albus plied.

"Unless there is something drastic in the part of the poem we have lost... I do believe so."

Albus shuddered as he tried to imagine what Hinnelbach the Pious had witnessed. Just a few months ago, Albus had seen Lucas destroy a whole classroom. If the spell could work on living beings as well, Albus could only guess at the horror of witnessing a whole village, everything and everyone, shattering like glass. He felt a little ill as he thought about it. Smiled only for Snape's sake when he noticed the ghost floating around nervously, wringing his hands. "We do not have the end of the poem, unfortunately. The last that is said is the spell sweeps over the city that watched her husband and child die. The city that did nothing and everything, as the poem calls it. The ground under the homes to the people living in them, suddenly seemed to turn as fragile as delicate glass and shatter."

"Thank you, Severus. This gives me plenty to research on my own once I have more time. And...did you have time to look into that second thing as well?"

"Yes, that book," Snape murmured, as he floated over towards the windows, the glass laying on the snowy grown several meters down. "It was not a simple task, but I was able to find someone to translate it. I had Hagrid place it in the Forbidden Forest for safe keeping until you returned for it."

"I will go and speak to him today then. And, thank you, Severus. You are amazing. As always."

Albus's open praising seemed to leave Snape flustered as the ghost cleared his throat. "Y-you are very welcome, Albus."

"Severus, can I ask you a question?" Albus suddenly asked in a rush. From the look on his face, he partly regretted asking as soon as the words were uttered.

"Yes, Albus, of course," Snape assured him, his curiosity peeked. Albus often asked him many questions, but he rarely looked so nervous doing so.

"There are many ghosts at my new school, you see." Snape nodded his head. He supposed any magical school would have a ghost or two. "But they are not like the ones in Hogwarts. They are not so... pleasant for the most part. I have been doing quite a lot of thinking about ghosts because of them."

Snape shook his head, moving closer to Albus. He wanted to reach out and put a hand on his shoulder, but he knew it would mean nothing the way he was. A ghost, after all, could not truly touch the living. Going through an icy shade was one thing, but reaching out for the warmth of another being was beyond any ghost's ability. "You need not worry yourself with the dead, Albus. You have quite a lot of living left to do, after all."

Albus smiled weakly, but shook his head. He clenched his fists, setting them on his lap. "The ghosts I have seen there are in so much pain, Severus. They are always reliving their deaths and they receive mercy only if someone watches. I suppose what I mean to ask is... Severus, are you in pain?"

Taken aback, Snape did not know what to say. In all the years he had been a ghost, no one had ever asked him if he were pained. Thinking about it, not many had asked him that when he was alive either. He looked at Albus now, temporarily losing him himself in his green eyes. They looked so familiar. He had seen such green eyes look upon him with worry before, but only now could he see the understanding that lay beyond. It was an understanding that had not been there before. Even though Snape knew it would do nothing, he reached out and placed a hand on Albus's head anyway. Albus could not feel it, but he was comforted by the attempt nonetheless. "Albus, I assure you, I am beyond pain as I am."

Albus smiled, but he was not completely convinced. "Then why are you still here, Severus? I know a little about what happened to you. Everything seems to think that you were prepared to die."

"I was."

"Then why are you a ghost? For years I have been worried that you've only stayed here because of me." Realization now donned on Snape's face. In the past, Albus had only half-attempted to ask about Snape's circumstances, though it was obvious from the beginning that he was curious about the fate of his namesake.

"Albus," Snape said, trying to sound as reassuring as he could manage, "You are not the reason I remain here."

"What is the reason, then?"

Snape sighed. He supposed he could not avoid the story any longer. He had secretly hoped he would never have to explain it to anyone. "From the moment your grandmother was killed, I was ready to join my friend. Up until that moment, all I wanted was power, but when she died, I threw it all away for a chance to right my wrongs."

"And you did, Severus!" Albus insisted. Snape just smiled. In a strange way it was fitting that his greatest supporter would turn out to be Harry Potter's son.

"Thank you, Albus," he said before continuing. "But when I died, I just remained where I was. I was not expecting anything and I suppose that is what I got. No lights, no one to greet me. I just remained here, sitting by my dead body."

"You just became a ghost?"

"I did. For weeks, I existed though I had not yet materialized as such. I watched your father defeat Voldemort."

Albus smiled at that. "Was it as exciting as everyone says it was?"

"In a way, I suppose the only way I can explain it is that it seemed like I was dreaming it all. Though you must remember I was expecting to be whisked away at any moment. I suppose I was not really paying much attention." Snape floated a bit lazily now. He had been tense ever since Scorpius had visited the day before. He was beginning to remember that, as a ghost, his troubles were over. "I remained and, after my body was buried, I took on this form."

"Did you choose to look so young?" Albus asked quickly before he blushed. "I just mean, the other ghosts seem to look how they did just before they died."

Snape nodded his head. It was a valid observation. "I do not know why exactly I look like this. I have my theories, of course, but ghost lore is hardly a well-studied field and it certainly was not my area of expertise before I expired."

"So you do not actually have any...unfinished business?"

"The Dark Lord is gone now, permanently. Anyone I might have had grievances with is also gone. I do not see what sort of unfinished business I could have," he said, giving Albus a careless shrug of his shoulders.

"You don't seem to mind being a ghost."

"It is not as if I have anyone waiting for me."

"Don't say things like that, Severus. It isn't fair," Albus muttered sadly, looking up at Snape's floating form.

Snape slowly began to drift upside down, riding some invisible breeze. "Life is unfair, Albus."

"My grandmother. My grandmother is waiting for you, I am sure of it," Albus insisted.

Snape just shook his head. "I doubt it. If there is something beyond this life, she is with her friends and family."

"You were her friend."

"She stopped considering me a friend years before her death. I am the last person she would want to see," he said, his voice wavering. Albus knew he was forcing Snape to relive unpleasant memories, he knew Snape would never deny him, and yet he continued.

When Snape spoke like that, Albus grew to dislike his grandmother. He would never understand what drove her to dissolve her friendship with Snape. Albus could never see himself doing something so cruel. "Maybe you're here because you don't want to see her."

"Perhaps I am here because I worry I will not." For a moment, Albus and Snape looked at each other. Albus wanted to question Snape, but he could not find the words.

Instead, he just grinned at the floating ghost. "Or perhaps you're here because without you I would have failed Potions."

Snape just chuckled at that, shaking his head. "Oh, Albus...'

* * *

><p><strong>December 25, 2031<strong>

Lucas sat up with a start. He shook; he trembled as he blinked against the light as it began to filter into the small house. He raised a hand, touching the tender spot on the side of his head as he sat. He winced as his fingers brushed against a cut in his blood soaked hair. He looked at his hands, they were sticky with blood. The floor around him had a small blood stain as well as a much larger stain of something dark red. Leaning in close, he smelled it. Wine. He could not say he was too surprised. He was home, after all.

That was when he remembered the day before and a feeling of sadness welled in his heart. Two days ago, his 'mother' had taken him back to his home. She had promised she would only be gone for a few hours, but she had left him. That first night was a blur. His father had beaten him so violently after dinner that Lucas blacked out until the following morning. That was when he and his father had fallen into their own routine. His father would drink and Lucas would try to avoid him for as long as he could. But in the end, his father would find him. His father always found him. Always.

Slowly, Lucas managed to get to his feet. He saw a spot of blood on the table as well as a dent. He had a half formed memory of his father grabbing him by his hair and smashing his head against the table while screaming at him. Lucas had dropped his father's last bottle of wine and his father had been furious. That explained the gash on the side of his head. The dent looked horrible and the blood stain was significant, but the wound on his head seemed superficial, most of the bleeding having already stopped. He supposed he was lucky. If he could consider that luck. His head meeting the table had been the last thing that Lucas remembered, so he figured that his father must have just left him on the floor when he finished his meal.

Walking to the kitchen, he got a bucket from under the sink and filled it with the water from the large kettle. Dropping an old bar of soap into the water, he mixed it. Once it began to bubble, he grabbed a towel and walked back to the tiny nook that acted as the dining room and the living room. Getting on his knees, he began to clean up the mess the blood and the wine had left on the old wood floors. As he worked silently, he could hear his father alternating between snoring and moaning in the connecting room.

As he worked, Lucas thought of nothing. He never did. The less he thought, the less he would feel, and Lucas wanted to feel as little as possible when it came to his father. In the distance, he could hear happy, screaming children as they ran out of their houses that Christmas morning. They would be running to the mountains to play in the snow like they did every year. Like every year before it, Lucas was at home, cleaning after his father's messes.

He scrubbed the floors silently even as tears began to fall down his cheeks onto the wet floors. He clenched his jaws as he continued to work. He would not allow himself to succumb to crying, even if he was alone. Even his father would not awake until well into the afternoon like he usually did.

Wiping at his face, he sighed. Crying never helped anyone. He was stronger than that. He knew that, but he did not know what else to do. When he finished scrubbing the floors, he went into the kitchen to make something for breakfast. He found a piece of bread in one of the cupboards and peeled off the mold. He tried to pour himself some water, but when nothing came out, he sighed. It seemed his father had forgotten to pay for the water once again. How his father managed to survive while Lucas was at Peppertongue, he had no idea.

As he thought about his father, he could hear him groaning miserably in his sleep from the other room. Sneaking over to the room, he peered in. His mother, his real mother, had only been sixteen when she had him, his father only fifteen. She had died giving birth to him and he always felt his father had never forgiven him for it.

Lucas leaned slightly against the door frame as he watched his father struggling with a nightmare. Even drunk and asleep, his father looked young. He could have easily passed for Lucas's brother. At some point he had probably been handsome, but years of heavy drinking and hard physical labor had taken their toll. He slept in a pair of old jeans and a ratty t-shirt. His bed was twin sized and the mattress had been donated to them some years ago. His hair, normally as pale blond as Belrose's was dirty, not having been washed in several days.

Lucas walked into the room quietly, his eyes remaining on his father. There were several bottles of rum in the bed with him, some of the necks peeking out from under the filthy blanket that half covered the sleeping man. "Dad," Lucas said softly, reaching out to shake him.

The man groaned, opening one of eye. He looked at Lucas, but did not seem to recognize him. "Hm?" he groaned, trying to sit up. Lucas reached out, keeping him in the bed.

"I need money. They cut off the water again." The older man blinked a few times before giving up, closing his eyes. He managed to motion towards the drawer before falling back asleep. Opening the drawer, he found a few crumpled bills. There was enough to pay for the water and get a bit of food as well.

By the time Lucas had finished his meager breakfast, rain had begun to fall outside, large drops hitting the dirty windows. Lucas groaned. Of course it would be raining now that he would have to make the three mile trek into town. Getting his father's coat and boots, he slipped them on before stepping out of the house. He was the only one outside in the rain it seemed. He had no hood and no umbrella, so he tried to be as quick as possible as he walked down the mountain into the town.

It took over an hour to get to the water company and by then he was dripping wet. He was just thankful that there was someone there on Christmas at all. The woman knew him and greeted him warmly. She was an elderly woman and had insisted that he take her spare umbrella. He was in no position to resist, so he thanked her, promising to return to umbrella as soon as he could.

With the water turned back on, he left the company office, making his way across the street to the green grocer. Everything was much more expensive than he remembered. He bought some onions, potatoes, a bag of day old bread and a carton of milk. The butcher had stopped him and gave him a heavily discounted five-pound container of beef. Apparently, they were the cuts he had made the day before. They were no longer fit for sale and he had been planning to deliver to Paul, Lucas's father, himself in any case. Lucas was not sure if that was true or not, but he thanked him nonetheless. Paying for the groceries had taken Lucas down to his last dollar, so he was thankful for the kindness, no matter how pathetic it made him feel.

Groceries in hand, he made the journey back to his small house in the mountains in higher spirits. The people of his town were as kind as he remembered them. Perhaps being home would not be so bad.

When he could see his house in distance, he stopped. His father was awake and outside, scrambling in the muddy slush, barefoot and desperate, screaming out for Lucas. "Dad!" Lucas cried out worriedly as he ran towards his father, waving for him. When Paul saw his son, he ran towards him as quickly as he could. He swept Lucas's thin frame right off of the ground, the bag of groceries and the umbrella tumbling down into the slush. "W-when I woke up y-you were just gone! You were j-j-just gone!" Paul screamed out as he held Lucas so tightly that the young boy found it difficult to breathe. His teeth chattered as he buried his face against Lucas's neck on the verge of hysterics. Lucas just snorted, squirming at the feel of his father's stubble against his neck.

"Dad...I'm fine, Dad. I just went to get some food. Honestly, I'm fine," Lucas gasped out, reaching out to pat his father's back. Paul's trembling legs soon gave out from under him, causing him to slump to the ground. Lucas managed to get to his knees as he hugged his father close. The rain fell down on them as they sat there for several long minutes.

When Paul finally seemed to calm down, Lucas slowly got to his feet, pulling his father up, supporting him as he walked with him back towards the house. "Come on, Dad. I'll make you some breakfast and you can take a bath."

"Don't leave, Lucas. Don't go with her. She can't have you," the older man gasped out, reaching out to grab onto Lucas's slender arm, squeezing it so hard that it pained them both, his eyes wide with a look of pure horror.

Lucas glanced up at his father. He would often ramble like that, alternating between blaming Lucas for all of his troubles and holding onto him jealously. "I won't be going anywhere, Dad." Despite his best efforts, it seemed he would be with his father for another Christmas.

"I don't care what she promised me, she can't have you. She can't take you. She can't hurt you," Paul spat out as he stumbled into the house. Lucas said nothing as he led his father to the bathroom before going to the kitchen to start work on lunch. His father spoke at Lucas more than to him and his ramblings barely made sense, especially as the years passed. He knew he should hate the man, but his father was so pathetic he did not have the heart to hate him.

His father could have abandoned him, but instead he worked four jobs just to keep food on the table, as low paying as they were. Lucas may have had no love for Paul, but he had loyalty and pity and for all intents and purposes that was good enough.

As he made some stew, he heard the rustling of feathers at the window. He smiled when he saw Matthew's owl, Peppa. Letting her in to wait out the storm, he took the package from her, giving her some bread.

Taking the package over to the small kitchen table, he opened it. His face lit up as he pulled out jacket. As he moved to slip into it, a small note fell to the ground. Picking it up from the ground, Lucas read it and his cheeks burned red. Matthew could be such a lame romantic sometimes, Lucas thought to himself. Waiting for the stew to finish, Lucas down on the counter and hugged the jacket to himself. If he closed his eyes, he could always imagine it was Matthew holding him.

It was an embarrassing thought but when he was alone, Lucas did not seem to mind giving into his more embarrassing wants.

**TBC**


	10. Bad Faith

**Author's Note- [07-06-2012] **Edited for grammar. Happy Reading!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

**"Bad Faith"**

* * *

><p><strong>January 3, 2032<strong>

Casandra Belrose stood as rigid as a statue in the darkened room. The light from the green flames reflected against the beads of sweat that rolled off of her dirt-covered cheek. Her robes were tattered and her platinum blond hair was dull and matted, hanging down in knotted curls.

The two uniformed men tightened their grips on her slender arms as they pushed her forward, toward a group of men and women. Some wore robes, others wore Muggle suits. They all wore skulls over their faces and sat quietly, waiting for her, their expressions impossible to read behind the masks.

When they had brought her before the group, one of the guards suddenly forced her to the ground. Far too weak to resist, Belrose's knees buckled under the pressure and she fell to the floor. It took all of her power to not whimper.

When one of the wizards raised his wand, Belrose flinched. For the last several days, a raised wand meant the Cruciatus Curse. Instead, a goblet filled with clear water appeared before her without warning. Overcome with thirst, Belrose made a grab for water and drank every drop of it as quickly as she could, half afraid that the masked figures would change their minds about extending to her that one small act of mercy.

"We cannot wait any longer," said one of the masked figures, a woman. From the sounds of it, she was a much older woman, her voice as unfeeling as ice.

"Please," Belrose gasped out, the empty goblet falling from her hands and clattering to the stone floor. Her own voice hoarse from her days of torture. "Just a little more time. I almost have the prototype finished."

"How much more _time_?" one of the men spat angrily. "How much more _money_? We are growing impatient."

"I promise you, in just a few months I will have an entire line to show you- to show all of the backers," she insisted, struggling to her feet. She half-expected the guards to force her to her knees once more, but when they did not, she stood even taller. As weakened as she was, as filthy as she appeared, she still had her pride. Reaching up, she swept some of her dirty hair over one of her slender shoulders. "Please, grant me this one last extension."

The masked figures turned to one another, their voices hushed as they spoke. All Belrose could hear was a dull ringing in her ear. She was unsure if it was from a spell that had been cast on her or from when one of the guards had slammed the side of her head against the brick hallway while they were dragging her from her cell. Either way, she could hardly make out what they were saying, though she was sure they were deliberating over her words. She could only hope that they would agree to her terms. She knew what they were capable of when they grew bored with a project.

"Very well," one of the figures finally spoke, his voice steady, almost droll. "The others will not be happy about it, but we will make sure you are given some more time."

"Two months," another explained, "That is all we can guarantee you. If you do not have something to show us by the end of February, you are _through_, Belrose."

Belrose could not stop the shudder than ran through her body. It was not an empty threat that hung in the air. It was a promise. "Thank you for your vote of confidence," she said as she put a fist over her heart and bowed deeply.

"This is not a vote of confidence." And with that, the entire group, including the guards, suddenly disappeared. When she was finally alone, Belrose sighed.

Walking over to the mantle of one of the fire places, she picked up a hand-carved wood box. They had taken her wand when they first brought her there. It had been her third time in the Disciplinary Sector and she did not plan to return. Wand in hand, she called for her guards to come collect her.

It would be some time before they would be able to find the old House, the building surrounded by numerous wards to confuse trespassers. It normally spelled a dismal death for those 'employees' brought to the House for their disciplinary hearings, but for Belrose it meant she had time to freshen her appearance and to cast some strategically placed Glamour Charms to cover her bruises. Her guards were loyal, but instinctively, she did not want to appear weak in front of them.

When she was finally led to the limousine that was waiting for her, she looked as she always did, expensive dress clinging to her supple frame, not a lock of pale blond hair out of place. The only thing that looked wrong was that she appeared thinner than she usually was. In the car, she rested her head back, closing her eyes.

It had been her intention to spend Christmas with Lucas. He was the key to her future success so it had been her plan to reward him. Instead, her hearing had turned into a sentence and her holiday plans had been ruined. She did not like leaving Lucas in the care of _that Muggle_, but he served his purpose. At least for the time being. Belrose longed for the day she would be able to dispose of him.

"Take me to Peppertongue," she said to the driver, her eyes remaining closed.

* * *

><p><strong>January 5, 2032<strong>

Lucas took a deep breath as he stepped out of Rutherford's car.

His father had been more... _insistent _than usual that Lucas not return to Peppertongue. Lucas cradled his plaster covered arm at the memory. Lucas had run away from home the night his father brought him home from the hospital. He had called Rutherford from the bus station miles from his house. It was a one hour drive between Peppertongue and the station but Lucas had allowed Rutherford to speak aloud to no one in particular.

Rutherford, in turn, did not make Lucas speak about what had happened. When they reached the school, he had told Lucas to go on and meet his friends, and that he would make sure his belongings were taken to his quarters. Lucas was thankful for a chance to go see his friends.

Matthew and Logan were both waiting for him at the front entrance of the school. When Matthew caught sight of Lucas, he ran to him. "Lucas!" he cried out as he hugged Lucas tightly, lifting him ever so slightly so that Lucas had to go onto his tip toes in order to hug him in return. "How are you... feeling?" Matthew asked worriedly, finally noticing the cast as it pressed slightly against the back of his head.

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to visit you during the break like I wanted," Lucas murmured softly against Matthew's neck as he tightened the embrace. He had missed Matthew, though he would not admit it. He had not realized just how accustomed to being held he had become. It was an embarrassing thought, but it was not one he immediately pushed away either.

"Forget about that," Matthew said gently as he rubbed Lucas's back. A part of him could sense that something had happened to Lucas, though he would not pry too much. At least at the moment. "Your arm, what happened?"

Lucas tensed for a moment before pulling away from the hug. He chuckled weakly. "Well, I'd never been skiing before..."

Matthew knew that Lucas was lying. Even when Lucas was being particularly crafty, Matthew could always tell. As it was, at the moment, Lucas was making no real effort to hide the deception. "Lucas, I told you to be safe..."

"Mother hen," Lucas teased half-heartedly.

"Come on, Matty. He's our little punk,"Logan interjected before Matthew could say another word. With a wide grin, Logan threw his arms around his two friends, pulling them close. "You can't expect him to turn into an angel over the holidays."

"Good morning, you three," Albus said as he approached the group, carrying a suit case in each hand. The three boys broke apart and made their way over to greet their professor.

"Mr. Potter! Welcome back to the country,"Logan greeted as he and Matthew each took a suitcase. They didn't help all of their professors, of course, just the ones that they liked.

"Thank you, Logan!" Albus said with a chuckle. Between Scorpius, Severus, and his family, Albus's holidays had been surprisingly busy. He was glad to be back in California.

"Hey, Mr. Potter, have you see Malfoy around?" Lucas asked, making sure to keep his injured arm behind him. The last thing he wanted was for his overly protective Defense professor to question him. He found that he had a very difficult time lying to Albus Potter.

Albus nodded his head. He was too tired to notice Lucas's odd behavior. Lucas always seemed naturally sneaky, after all. "He should be back soon. His Portkey is the old boot outside in the parking lot."

"Thanks!" Lucas cried out as he suddenly turned on his heels and ran towards the back of the school as fast as he could, leaving Albus to wonder if he had just seen a cast on Lucas's arm.

* * *

><p>For nearly an hour, Lucas waited by the ratty old boot in the parking lot out behind the school, growing impatient with every passing minute. Several other staff members and students arrived by their own respective Portkeys. Lucas greeted them all politely, making idle chit-chat with a few of the students, all the while keeping one eye on Scorpius Malfoy's Portkey. Lucas was just about to give up when Scorpius finally arrived. He wore a set of formal black robes. Lucas thought they made him look like he was ready for a funeral. "Yo, Scorpius," he greeted, casually holding up a hand.<p>

Scorpius glanced at him. He did not look angry, which was a pleasant change from the previous term. "I do not recall giving you permission to call me by my given name," Scorpius reprimanded, a shadow of a smirk on his lips.

Lucas shrugged, a grin wheedling its way onto his own face. The look on Scorpius's face was all he needed to know that the air was cleared between them. "Yeah, yeah, _Mr. Malfoy._"

"Much better," Scorpius said approvingly as he bent down to pick up a single black suitcase. Without another word, he walked past Lucas, suitcase in hand.

"About what you said before we went on break." Scorpius stopped, but did not turn to look at Lucas. "About my mo- that woman. I agree with you now."

"Is that so?" Scorpius asked thoughtfully as he glanced to the side, seeing the town of Dragons Camp down the hill. Lucas walked beside Scorpius as he reached out to take a hold of Scorpius's suitcase, the older man letting him take it.

"You aren't gonna rub it in?" Lucas finally asked, glancing up at Scorpius, his expression unreadable though his gray eyes betrayed his suspicion.

A small wisp of a smile crossed Scorpius's face. When he looked down at Lucas it grew. "You have just lost a woman you thought would replace your mother." Lucas turned his head down, suddenly finding the ground to be incredibly interesting. "In this case, I take no pleasure in being right." Reaching out, he ruffled Lucas's soft hair.

Lucas's gaze remained at his feet though his slender shoulders began to tremble. "I thought she was different. I wanted so much for her to be different." Lucas's voice began to waver, but he continued, "I trusted her."

"We both did," Scorpius replied, his voice just above a whisper as he put an arm around Lucas's shoulders, his long robes half hiding Lucas's frame. "Shall we go inside?"

Lucas said nothing, but nodded his head. Holding Scorpius's light suitcase to his chest, Lucas and his professor walked into the school.

* * *

><p><strong>January 7, 2032<strong>

Scorpius shuddered against the cold wind that blew through the Owlry. He scowled as he glanced upward, seeing several rather large holes in the ceiling. The owls did not seem to mind the openings, but Scorpius decided he would file a complaint with Rutherford and get those holes sealed. A note from Huerta had already forced Scorpius out of his warm bed at an ungodly hour of the night and, should such a thing become common place between potions master and doctor, Scorpius would have to make sure their meeting places were at least a little more hospitable toward human life.

As the minutes passed, the chattering of his teeth the only sound in the Owlry, Scorpius kept himself warm thinking of all of the ways he would eviscerate Huerta once he got a hold of him. Ever since his accident, he and Huerta had had sporadic correspondence. Scorpius kept details of his dealings with Belrose sparse, but from the data Huerta had sent him, the doctor was learning the truth at an alarming rate. Scorpius wondered just what sort of intelligence network Huerta had access to if he was able to gather information so quickly. Idly, Scorpius wondered if Huerta was truly a simple doctor as he so loved to claim.

The sound of distant footsteps broke Scorpius out of his reverie. Bringing his wand up, he cast a silent _Lumos_, illuminating the area around him in a faint light. Huerta was walking towards him, his usual smirk on his face.

"I did a bit of research," he said, keeping his gravelly voice low as he handed Scorpius a folder. They were alone, but Huerta glanced over his shoulders suspiciously out of habit. He had already done a sweep of the area before showing him, but Huerta had not survived as long as he had by taking unnecessary risks.

Scorpius glanced through the thick folder. Data analyses from several labs, old plane tickets, receipts from obscure shops in far-flung places like Venezuela and Thailand-all of the seemingly obscure documents helped to paint a picture of Belrose's comings and goings over the last few years. As Scorpius looked through the documents, Huerta stayed silent and watched him. Finally, Scorpius closed the folder and tucked it under his arms. "Impressive."

Huerta sniggered as he pushed his calloused hands into his pockets. Digging around them for a few moments, he produced a half crushed cigarette. "Was there any doubt?" he asked, slipping the cigarette into his mouth. Lighting it with the tip of his wand, he sat down on the bench, looking out of the tower to the town below. "Been doing some research on your... condition, too."

"Did you find out anything interesting?" Scorpius asked, sitting down beside him. He hated the smell of Huerta's cigarettes, but with the cold breeze, it was not so bad.

"Plenty. The stones she put into your chest, they do a lot of what they're supposed to, you know."

"Really," Scorpius muttered, the disinterest evident in his voice.

Huerta, however, continued, completely unperturbed. He was used to Scorpius, after all. "They turn lead into gold. And from what I've seen, they do grant immortality."

"I already knew that."

"I also found that as authentic as they may seem, every single one of them is just a copy." Scorpius tensed. Huerta's grin widened. "Did you know _that_?"

"There were rumors. How did you know?"

"Experiments."

Scorpius's eyes narrowed. "And from where exactly were you able to get samples?" In lieu of an answer, Huerta stood. Taking the cigarette from his mouth, he dropped it to the floor and crushed it under his shoe.

"Good night, Scorpius." And with a laugh, Huerta turned and walked out of the Owlry, leaving Scorpius to watch him disappear into the darkness.

When he was finally alone, Scorpius sighed. Resting his head back against the stone wall, he closed his eyes. For several minutes, he just listened to the distant screech of the owls as they hunted for field mice.

Scorpius was beginning to think he had made a serious mistake. He had hoped he could just move on with his life after Belrose had freed him. Despite all he had done, no Aurors were coming for him. No one even knew the extent of Scorpius's guilt. He had spent the better part of the last five years praying for a chance to escape Belrose's influence, but now that he was free, he kept returning again and again.

He should have considered himself lucky. Most who crossed Belrose were executed. And yet, that was part of the problem. She had let him go too easily. She had had her guards rough him up, but compared to what he was used to, running her little "missions", their beatings were practically love taps. Belrose had declared him free, but he did not believe her. He wanted to, but the whole situation felt wrong. He just hoped that by learning more about her, he wasn't losing what little freedom he had managed to take.

Scorpius felt unsure of himself as he stood up and walked out onto the large, open balcony. The night was so peaceful.

Scorpius wondered how long the peace could last.

* * *

><p><strong>January 9, 2032<strong>

Logan hid under a cloak as he quietly made his way through the halls of the school. The robe was one of his latest creations and one he hoped to show to George Weasley when he started his internship during the summer. He had charmed it to obscure what hid underneath it. It was currently pretty useless during the day, but at night, it was as good as an invisibility cloak.

Hiding under the darkness it provided, Logan rushed towards the entrance of the school like a shadow. He had almost reached the large double doors when a hand grabbed his shoulders. Stiffing a shout, he jumped away, the cloak slipping to the ground. Logan had begun to recite his memorized excuse when he realized that the smirking blond standing in front of him was _not _Scorpius Malfoy. "God, don't scare me like that, Lucas,"Logan hissed, his voice just slightly above a whisper as he reached out to punch Lucas.

Lucas practically cackled as he ducked away from the attack. Walking around Logan now, like a predator circling its prey, he nodded his head. "The fuck are you all dressed up for, dude?"

Logan could feel his cheeks heat up, the warmth traveling to the tips of his ears. "A d-date, if you must know."

"Didn't realize your hand liked you to look all fancy."

Rolling his eyes at his young friend's lewd joke, Logan adjusted the nice clothes he was wearing. "Shut your trap. I'm going out with Maddie, actually."

Lucas's gray eyes widened at the news. "Wait, Madison? Our _Quidditch captain_?" He had known for quite some time that Madison was special to Logan. He just assumed Logan would never have the balls to actually do anything about it. "How the hell did you manage that!"

"Not that complicated, man. I asked her out for a late night walk and she said 'yes'."

"Holy shit! This is huge!" Lucas cried out, his voice raising a bit as he began to practically push Logan towards the doors. "Try to look more natural. Like you don't care about impressing her."

"When did you become Mr. Dating Expert?"

Lucas stopped, turning Logan around so they were facing each other once more "Hey, I've been dating someone for _months _now!"

"Yeah. Matthew," Logan added with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "You could treat him like shit and he'd still think you're amazing. For whatever reason, he's crazy for you."

Lucas was sure Logan was just teasing him, but he suddenly felt defensive. He noticed himself getting defensive rather quickly whenever Matthew was brought up in conversations. "You think I don't know?"

"Do you?" Logan asked. The conversation had suddenly taken a serious turn and Lucas was not sure if he approved. Logan, however, was determined to push the issue. "You act so weird most of the time. He may realize you don't _really _like him if you aren't careful."

For a moment, Lucas was silent. Suddenly, he punched Loganon the arm, giving him one last shove towards the doors. "Get your ass to your date. And put on a good show. If you can get her nice and seduced maybe she won't push us so hard for tomorrow's practice."

Logan laughed as he shook his head, disapprovingly. "God. For our star Seeker you are lazy as shit." Waving good-bye to Lucas, Logan ran out of the main building towards the Quidditch field where Madison was waiting for him.

When he was alone, Lucas turned to walk back towards the dormitory and nearly stepped on Logan's obscuring cloak in the process. Grinning like a cat, he picked it up and slipped it over himself. He hoped Logan would get caught and be given detention.

He deserved it for bring his relationship with Matthew into question.

* * *

><p><strong>January 10, 2032<strong>

"Well, is it safe to open it, Hiro, or not?" Scorpius asked nervously as he leaned slightly over the counter, paranoid that Albus could hear him. Albus was standing outside of Hiro Tanaguchi's shop, sipping at his cup of hot Butterbeer, watching as people walked past him. He was well out of ear shot, but when it came to anything dealing with Belrose, Scorpius tried to keep Albus as far from it all as he could.

Hiro motioned for Scorpius to keep his words to a minimum as he continued to examine the small box that Clarence had given Scorpius weeks prior. Scorpius just sighed, annoyed.

He and Albus had made plans for a lunch date and Scorpius had actually been looking forward to spending a nice, quiet afternoon with Albus. Unfortunately, just as they were about to sit down at the restaurant, one of Hiro's apprentices showed up with a message, telling Scorpius that his presence was needed immediately. Scorpius had given Albus some terrible excuse, but Albus had just dismissed it. He said he didn't mind picking something up first.

So, for the last fifteen minutes Albus had been standing outside, nursing a hot cup of Butterbeer he had bought from the cafe across the street. Scorpius had invited Albus in from the cold nearly ten minutes ago, but Albus had refused. Scorpius had a feeling it was because he was so nervous about knowing what Tanaguchi wanted to tell him that Albus was giving him space. Scorpius made a promise to himself that if Hiro ever bothered to tell him the supposedly vital piece of information instead of just scowling at the box, he would take Albus right down to the Le Voile d'Argent and buy him the most expensive lunch Albus had ever had.

After what seemed like an eternity, the old man finally began to speak. "Mm, the seal is not particularly sophisticated, but see this right here?" He held out the box, long bony fingers tapping at a string of ancient markings. "These symbols indicate 'bad faith'," he explained with a chuckle before looking at Scorpius expectantly.

Scorpius glared at him, sensing a veiled insult. "What are you getting at?"

Throwing his head back, the old man cackled divisively. "What, do you not speak any French at all?" Scorpius inwardly groaned. Would failing to learn French forever be a mark against him? "I will take that to mean 'no'. Quite surprising, really."

"Just get on with it."

"Alright, my ignorant friend. In French, the term 'bad faith' translates to 'mal foy'," he explained, tossing the box to Scorpius, "The charm is not very sophisticated, as I said, but the witch or wizard who created those paper seals had a penchant for puns. This box will only open for you."

"But do you think it is safe?" Scorpius asked, turning the box over in his hand.

"I think if someone did want you dead, there are easier ways to do it."

"That... is a fair point."

"That being said," Hiro said, walking to the other side of the counter, beginning to push Scorpius out of the shop. "Do not open your crazy box in my shop. Shoo."

Scorpius shook his head, but allowed himself to be pushed out of the shop. "You inspire so much confidence, Tanaguchi. You know that?"

Albus chuckled when he saw Scorpius unceremoniously kicked out of the shop. "Interesting meeting, I take it?" he asked, holding out a cup of still hot Butterbeer.

Scorpius shoved the sealed box quickly into his coat pocket as he took the Butterbeer. "Very illuminating," he replied as he and Albus began to walk towards the restaurant. "He taught me French, mostly."

"Oh? For some reason I thought you already knew French."

Scorpius made a face. "It is my father's fault, and my mother's. They both know French and so it would seem everyone assumes I do, too."

"So you really don't?" Albus asked, a slight look of surprise on his face. Thinking back, he supposed he had no reason to think Scorpius did. French just seemed like a language any Malfoy would know, considering all of the family's ties to foreign witches and wizards.

"No. I speak Russian," he said, finishing up the cup of Butterbeer. "If you recall, I apprenticed for a potions master in _Siberia_. French would have done me very little good there," Scorpius said with a laugh as he shook his head.

Albus just smiled. He and Scorpius had not had time to just walk and chat in such a carefree manner in what felt like a very long time. He was enjoying the time pass. "So, what did your French instructor teach you?"

"That my family name is apparently French for 'bad faith'." When Albus cocked his head in confusion, Scorpius clarified, "Essentially, it means 'of two minds'."

Albus contemplated his words thoughtfully. "'Of two minds'? That sounds like something my Aunt Hermione explained to me once. If I remember correctly, it basically means 'deception'."

"I suppose it can be interpreted that way."

"Now, you would not be deceiving _me _about anything, would you, Scorpius Malfoy?" Albus asked, playfully nudging his friend as they walked.

"You? Never," Scorpius replied, returning the slight push. After that, the two walked in comfortable silence.

As the restaurant came into view, Albus began to chuckle. "I just realized something. If what that old man said about your surname is true, that would make you a scorpion of bad faith, wouldn't it?"

Scorpius groaned, rubbing at his temples. "I am surrounded by people who enjoy puns entirely too much," he muttered, annoyed. Albus just laughed as he hooked his arm with Scorpius's and half dragged him into the well-heated restaurant.

**TBC**


	11. A Malfoy Will Always Find Allies

**Author's Note: [07-06-2012]- **Edited for grammar and continuity. Happy Reading!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11 <strong>

" **A Malfoy Will Always Find Allies "**

* * *

><p><strong>January 11, 2032<strong>

The next day passed slowly, almost in a haze. Scorpius found himself watching the people around him more than he had in the past, Clarence's words now weighing heavily on him as they echoed in his mind.

During his morning class, he watched the first years as they huddled over their caldrons. Everything was so new to them. They would add in one ingredient after another nervously. Even if their attempts would prove disastrous, that youthful excitement never left their faces. Scorpius sat down on his chair in the front of his class as he watched them work.

So many had been raised by Muggles, growing up not knowing even the simplest of potions. They were so eager to learn, so eager to expose themselves to such fantastical sights, they did not care if they failed or succeeded.

Scorpius glanced out of the windows. He always kept them open if he could. He himself enjoyed to do potions someplace dark and quiet, but that was probably from years at Hogwarts and then as an apprentice in Siberia. The students of Peppertongue were completely different creatures.

Having the windows closed and curtains drawn had visibly made them nervous, as had his quite distant placements of their workstations. After a few lessons, without any fuss or announcement, Scorpius had subtly moved the students slightly closer and left the windows open. The students had actually had smiles on their faces the first day of the changes. Scorpius was not so sentimental to have inconvenienced himself for the sake of a few smiles, but the quality of the work did increase substantially as well after the changes, so the windows remained open.

Walking in between the rows of diligent students, an idle thought drifted through his mind. 'These Mudblood children are filth. Nothing but filth, dirtying the name of Wizard.' It was something a friend of his grandfather's had said years ago and had been echoed by Belrose and many of her associates. As he watched his students, every single one of them half-bloods or less, Scorpius wondered if Belrose and those like her had ever even spent any real time with these 'Mudblood' children.

Scorpius himself had always thought that he disliked children. They made him apprehensive and he did not know how to act around them. They required a certain level of affection and care of which Scorpius did not think himself capable. It had never been his intention to teach. Moving to California and teaching Potions at Zenbazi had been Belrose's idea, her command to him.

He had read somewhere that "those with the ability and the will will accomplish many a great thing. Those without, will merely teach about it." Teaching, he always felt, was beneath him.

It had certainly felt like a burden at Zenbazi, teaching his beloved craft to a bunch of ungrateful, spoiled brats. But the students of Peppertongue were so different. They were curious and creative. Scorpius was stern with them, but his Peppertongue pupils had become quite dear to him. Albus played a hand in that, of course. He was constantly singing their praises and it was difficult not to be taken in by Albus's enthusiasm.

That evening, he took Albus out to dinner at the Galloping Goblin in Dragons Camp. It was a family restaurant, full of children and parents, and though Scorpius out of place for the most part, Albus genuinely enjoyed the atmosphere. Considering how boisterous his family was back in England, Scorpius thought it made sense.

As Albus recounted some of his adventures from the day, telling Scorpius of all the mistakes and successes of his students with a glowing look of pride on his face, Scorpius silently made a vow to himself. No matter how uncomfortable or nervous it made him to become involved with Belrose's game of intrigue, he had to do it. So long as he knew what Belrose was doing, he would be able to protect Albus and the students who made him happy.

"Scorpius, is something the matter?" Albus asked softly as they made their way up the stairs to the professors' quarters after they had finished dinner. "You have been looking at me oddly all night."

Scorpius could feel his face reddening. He had been so lost in thought he had ended up watching Albus more than usual. "Ah, no, it's nothing, Albus. I suppose I am not quite ready to be back in school."

Albus grinned as he laughed, reaching out to shove Scorpius. "Are you serious? I thought the holidays would last forever! I could hardly wait to return. It figures that you would want a longer vacation, however."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"You have always liked to be stay in that four poster bed of yours!"

Scorpius crossed his arms as he stopped in his tracks. "Well, you do, too!" Albus's eyes widened. Scorpius's blush spread as he replayed the last last few moments in his head. He shook his head as he quickly added, "I mean, you like to stay in your bed, as well."

For several moments, the two stood facing each other. Several times, Scorpius was sure Albus had been about to say something, but stopped before any words would form. Eventually, Albus stepped close and slung an arm around Scorpius, giving him a friendly half hug. "Well, I think I should be getting ready for bed. Long day of work tomorrow."

Before Albus could more away, Scorpius slipped his arms around the shorter man and pulled him closer, giving him a proper hug. "Good night," Scorpius muttered quickly before he turned and walked down the hall in the opposite direction towards his own room as quickly as he could without appearing desperate to get away from Albus.

The hug had been sudden and ended as soon as it had begun. Albus wondered what had brought about the strangely affectionate action, but soon put it from his mind. Scorpius had been acting strangely that whole evening. He probably just had a lot on his mind. There was always a logical explanation for everything Scorpius did, Albus reminded himself. When Scorpius's form disappeared in the darkness, Albus turned and walked to his own quarters.

Within the safety of his own room, Scorpius flung himself on his bed. He groaned, annoyed with himself.

"My Dear," cooed a young woman from one of the portraits on his wall, "Whatever is the matter? Did your date not go well? Did she reject you?"

Scorpius glared daggers at her. "None. Of. Your. Business," he snapped as he suddenly grabbed a pillow, tossing it at her frame. The woman hardly flinched.

"Honestly. You are just being childish. A man your age... acting like a love sick teenager."

"It was not a date. I was not even with a woman," Scorpius muttered, standing up tiredly, walking over to his desk. He could not get to sleep and he had some letters to finish in any case. They would prove important in the coming months.

Even with Scorpius making a grand show of ignoring her, the young woman was not to be discouraged so easily. "So, not a woman? Oh, how scandalous, my dear."

"Matilda, please, shut your mouth," he said, reaching up to rub at his forehead. "I am clearly doing some work."

"You are clearly trying not to think about your little dalliance. So, what is his name? Have I seen him?" The dark haired woman suddenly began to giggle, "Oh, what am I saying? Of course I have, surely."

"Matilda," Scorpius growled warningly.

"You do not fraternize with very many people outside of the school, except for that large, bearded man, but somehow..." she trailed off, glancing Scorpius up and down,"I cannot see you and him having much of a happy future together."

Scorpius rested his forehead against the desk. He would not get any work done until Matilda was done thinking aloud.

"Oh, goodness... it isn't a student is it? You have been close to Logan and Matthew as of late." Before Scorpius could correct her, she gasped."It isn't young master Lucas is it? My dear, you are an absolute monster to go after one so young!"

Scorpius gave her a look of horror. "What on earth are you talking about, you silly woman? Lucas is my student. As are Logan and Matthew. I have no interested in pursuing such a relationship."

"Then perhaps the elder Mr. Rutherford."

"Now you are just having me on," Scorpius grumbled. "That man is old enough to be my grandfather." Mentally, Scorpius reprimanded himself. What did he think he was doing, playing along with Matilda's little game? When she had been alive, Matilda had been a nurse. Scorpius decided that if her patients had not been crazy prior to being admitted into the hospital, they would have become mad having to spend extended periods of time with her.

Suddenly, Matilda grinned from ear to ear. "I know who it is." The tone in Matilda's voice caused the blood in Scorpius's veins to run cold. "It's Doctor Huerta, isn't it! It is. A few of us girls were in the Hospital wing when you were taken ill. He was _very _thorough with you."

Scorpius's whole face with bright red at the thought of what Huerta might have done to him. He doubted the man would have done anything lewd, but he knew full well that Huerta was known to put on 'shows' for the young women in the portraits he kept up in his hospital wing. Matilda took the blush to mean that she had hit the nail on the head, so, with a squeal, she ran off to tell the other portraits before Scorpius could stop her.

"What a wretched woman," Scorpius muttered under his breath as he turned his attention to his letters. As if he would be interested in Huerta of all people. He wasn't interested in anyone. He had no right to be, not when there was so much at stake. Who thought about _romance_ when there was a _war_ on the horizon? Not Scorpius.

The hug earlier had merely been an anomaly.

He attempted to go back to writing his letters. One to Ms. Pansy Parkinson. Another to Ms. Millicent Bulstrode. When he sealed the third letter, addressed to one Mr. Lorcan Scamander, he set his pen down.

After he fetched his coat, tucking the envelopes into the pocket, he walked up to the Owlry. Artemis was resting on his perch, watching the young owls swooping in the field below. Scorpius smiled as he walked beside the large creature. Reaching out, he attached the letters to its feet. "Be safe, Artemis," he said, gently smoothing the owl's gray coat. With a trill, Artemis took off to deliver his master's messages diligently.

Leaning against the railing, Scorpius watched as Artemis disappeared into the night sky. The letters he carried were of vital importance and Scorpius could think of no creature he trusted more than Artemis. In all his years of service to the Malfoy family, Artemis had never lost a letter or had been late on a delivery.

When Artemis's form was no longer visible in the cold winter sky, Scorpius turned to walk back to his quarters. When he pushed his hands into his pockets for warmth, his fingers brushed against the box from the previous day. He had forgotten about it entirely.

Taking it out of his pockets, he pulled out his wand as well. He figured now, in the relative solitude of the Owlry, was as good a time as any to see just what sort of gift Clarence had given him. He tapped his wand against the box and the paper wards slipped off, smoldering to ask as they fell to the floor. That was never a good sign.

Opening the box cautiously, Scorpius raised a brow in confusion when all he saw was a gold Galleon, glistening in the faint light of the moon. Without even thinking, Scorpius picked it up. An instant later, it felt as if a force had grabbed him and was unceremoniously pulling him downward.

He suddenly found himself in what looked like a laboratory. The Galleon had be some sort of unregistered Portkey. Slipping the now useless coin into his pocket, he gripped his wand tightly. There did not seem to be anyone in the brightly lit lab, but that that could change in a moment's notice.

Walking through the lab, his eyes constantly glancing towards the doors for any sign of movement, Scorpius examined all of the experiments. None of it seemed particularly sinister until he came across a large tank in the shape of an upright pod. There was only a small opening, but from what Scorpius could see it was filled with some sort of cloudy dark blue liquid. It looked a little familiar.

His curiosity had gotten the better of him and he was trying to deduce what sort of liquid was inside of the strange holding tank. He was leaned in close, face practically up against the window into the pod when something suddenly floated up from the murky depths, tapping against the glass. Scorpius screamed out as he leaped away from the tank, a half dissolved human skull pressing up against the glass now. That was why the liquid had seemed so familiar! It was a corrosive mixture called 'golodnyi vody', 'the hungry water ', and he had produced liters upon liters of it when he was working for Belrose in Siberia. It made "cleaning" very simple.

"Scorpius! Welcome."

Scorpius spun around, his wand pointed out in front of it, an Unforgivable on his lips. He did not relax even when he saw Clarence smiling at him.

"What the hell is all of this?"

"Please, do put the wand down, Scorpius. There is no need for that," Clarence said as he walked towards the tank. "After all, you are our guest here," He said, jotting down the readings. Scorpius recognized the folder, the paper, the hand-writing.

"Huerta. Is he involved in all of...this?" he asked, motioning to the laboratory with his wand.

Clarence chuckled. "I was wondering how long it would take for you to figure that out. Dr. Huerta has been instrumental in our research here."

Scorpius lowered his wand, but kept it in his hand. "And who is that exactly?"

"Does it matter?" Clarence asked, shrugging.

Scorpius could feel every muscle in his body tense. He remembered back, several months ago, to how worried Albus had been on Clarence's behalf. Was this callous creature really the same child that Albus had felt sorry for? It was hard to believe. "That used to be a person. It matters to someone."

Clarence laughed, but yielded to Scorpius's questions. "His name was Bernard Fisher. Twenty years ago, he was a simple accountant, eking out a modest living. Then, Belrose gave him an irresistible offer."

Sickness nearly over-whelmed Scorpius. "You mean he's still _alive_ in there?"

"Of course. He's been in that particular tank about ten days now. Our data is incredible," Clarence declared enthusiastically, as if he was talking about a plant he was keeping in Herbology.

Raising his hand, Scorpius pointed his wand at Clarence. "Release him," he demanded, his voice steady, his hands unwavering.

"Any why would I do a thing like that?"

"Because I said so."

Clarence smirked now. "Or what? You'll kill me? You know as well as I do that so long as Belrose is alive, I can't die."

It started out small, almost inaudible, but soon Scorpius's chuckling filled the room. It was such a strange, cryptically broken sound that Clarence's triumphant smirk disappeared. As Scorpius stepped forward, Clarence cowered. "That is what makes this game so fun," he whispered, "I cannot kill you, but I can make you _hurt_. And you know just how good I am at that." There was a sort of distant madness in Scorpius's eyes and Clarence flinched, instinctively bringing his arms up defensively. Clarence could feel his whole body trembling in fear under Scorpius's gaze. All of the stories he had heard about Scorpius seemed to ring true: Belrose's Bloodhound was a creature to fear.

"A-alright. I'll l-let him go," Clarence stuttered, retreating to his his old self. Whatever sort of confidence being faux-immortality had given him was lost in Scorpius's presence. Scorpius took a step back so that Clarence to work the machine, the _golodnyi vody _filtering out of the tank, and down the drains in the floor. As he watched the vile mixture disappear, the smell of rotted flesh filling the room, Scorpius began to relax. Clarence glanced at Scorpius nervously. "Should I...open it?"

Scorpius nodded and Clarence opened the top of the pod. Stepping forward, Scorpius peered inside. The man, or what was left of him, was half dissolved by the corrosive liquid, but the flesh as already beginning to grow back, returning the body to it's former composition.

Within minutes, the man was gasping, his new lungs attempting to regain their former function. Before Scorpius could breathe a sign of relief for the man's safety, the man began to speak out in sputtering gasps. _'Mudblood. Filthy Mudblood. She will kill you.'_. He repeated those words again and again, spitting them out hatefully, as he reached one skeletal hand out for Clarence. A look of fear crossed Clarence's face as he stepped back, bringing his wand up to protect himself. The beginnings of various curses were on his lips, but no confidence remained in his heart.

As he watched the scene unfold before him, Scorpius was suddenly overcome with a feeling of anger. He had scared Clarence to save this man from further suffering and now he was wondering if such mercy was deserved. Before the man could gasp out another foul utterance, Scorpius swiped his wand through the air several times, each time cutting through the air with exact precision. In his mind, Scorpius wordlessly cast the spell he had strong armed the spirit of Severus Snape into teaching him: _Sectum Sempra_. He had wanted to test its effectiveness on someone like himself, anyway.

The man's still healing body was suddenly cut open, gushing out sprays of blood as if Scorpius had attacked him with a blade. It was good to know that having Belrose's curse did not render such a spell ineffectual. Clarence was too thankful to even question Scorpius. Rushing forward, he slammed the top of the pod down. Moments later, a fresh rush of _golodnyi vody_ was being injected into the pod, the man flailing and struggling within the metal chamber.

Clarence gave a shaky sigh as he set his folder down. Taking a vial from his jacket, he quickly tossed it back. It was a vial of _Felix Felicis_, no doubt in Scorpius's mind. One did not forget the golden light easily. He supposed that explained a good deal about the Clarence in front of him and the Clarence Albus recalled. Scorpius also knew that one could easily become addicted to Liquid Luck.

"Don't give me that look," Clarence gasped out as he reached up, wiping the sweat from his brow, eagerly waiting for the potion to take effect.

"Any other time, I would have told you the dangers of dependency, but seeing as you are already on a suicide mission against an impossibly powerful enemy, I suppose my warning would fall on deaf ears," Scorpius replied, walking towards the door. He wanted to be as far away from that particular experiment as he could get.

The rest of the building was as modern looking as the laboratory. They walked through several science rooms, all of them filled with various pods. A small part of him felt bad for the people undoubtedly suffering in the tanks. A greater part of him felt somewhat vindicated. From how Clarence reacted earlier, he doubted those in the tanks were innocent bystanders. They were probably getting exactly what they deserved.

But then, was Scorpius really all that different from them? It was mere chance that he was not in one of those tanks.

"This is the training ground. There are a few members here, practicing," He said, leading Scorpius to a large observation deck. Down below, he could see a dozen or so children, most throwing spells and hexes at each other while they ran through the obstacle course, hiding behind cover and trying to move to more strategic positions. The casual observer may have just scene children at play, but Scorpius could see it for what it actually was; training for guerrilla warfare.

"When you spoke of your group, I had not realized you meant school children," Scorpius muttered in disgust, looking away. He had wanted to protect Albus, to protect the children he cared for, not to throw them in the front line.

"Most of our members are adults. These are just some of the older students from Kingston and Zenbazi. They volunteered."

"They're children," Scorpius spat out, finding himself becoming outraged on Albus's behalf.

Clarence glanced down at them. "They stopped being mere children long ago."

Scorpius could feel his shoulder slump. He could not argue with Clarence, not when it came to Belrose, for he had been with her for years. He had seen how thoroughly and completely she would ruin the lives of all those with whom she crossed paths. She would go after men and women of all stations, but when they would not succumb to her will, she would go for their children, their grandchildren, anyone they had ever loved. Belrose always got who she wanted. He did not know what happened to those children below specifically, but he could hazard several guesses, none of them in the least bit pleasant.

"Where are we, in any case?"

"This is our head quarters. We're under Dragons Camp."

"I suppose that is a logical choice. From the looks of this place, there is a lot more money behind your organization than I would have thought," Scorpius commented offhandedly as he really looked around him. Everything was new and looked rather expensive. It really wasn't something a student on scholarship to Peppertongue would be able to afford.

Clarence smiled, watching the training session down below. "There are a lot of wealthy people who back us. Many wealthy, desperate people."

Scorpius nodded his head, understandingly. "They realize their time is running out, then?"

"Most only have a year left."

"That will make things more difficult," Scorpius conceded as he took out the golden Galleon, turning it over in his hands. "I know of certain people who may be able to help us. I have already been getting into contact with them."

"Y-you do?" Clarence asked, obviously in surprise. He had head a few things about Scorpius and his family, but none of it would lead him to think that Scorpius had any sort of ties that would be able to help them.

"A Malfoy will always find allies," Scorpius murmured with a smirk. Those were his grandfather's words. They had not helped Lucius Malfoy, but perhaps they would help his grandson. "I know of people with money, people with influence, people who owe me favors. Despite that, it won't be easy."

"I didn't think it would be," Clarence assured him. "We've tried to do our own recruiting these last six months, but there aren't many who believe us about the threat she poses."

"Most will not," Scorpius said, slipping the coin back into his pocket. "They have gotten used to the world as it is. Everyone just wants to pretend that Voldemort was the last of the great villains."

"Will your friends believe you?" Clarence asked, worry in his voice despite the boost from the potion.

"Albus will," Scorpius reassured him.

"No," Clarence suddenly said, his voice steady. Any sense of hesitation was now gone from his voice.

"Excuse me?"

"I said 'no'. Scorpius, he isn't like us. I don't want him involved."

"I don't either, but-"

Clarence cut him off before he say another word. "Whatever it takes, we have to keep innocent people out of this. It isn't their fight."

Scorpius sighed, feeling a headache developing. Why did Clarence have to turn out to be so stubborn? Stubborn people annoyed him. Clarence was beginning to sound a lot like James Potter. "This is a fight that will determine his future as well. He deserves to be allowed to fight for it."

"And if he's attacked? If he's shot, or worse?" Scorpius tensed. Clarence knew exactly what to say to make Scorpius waver. "Unlike us, Mr. Potter could actually _die. _We need to get him out of here."

"And what of the other students?"

Clarence was silent as he looked away from Scorpius, unable to meet his gaze. "We can't save everyone."

Scorpius smirked grimly. Perhaps Clarence was even more like James Potter than he gave him credit for. "Trying to appear noble while only saving the person you care for, Clarence? How pathetic."

Looking back to Scorpius, Clarence was now able to meet his eyes, having found his courage. "I don't apologize for it."

"Good." That simple word confused Clarence. He had obviously been expecting a fight. Scorpius understood why they could not suddenly evacuate a whole city. Belrose would know something was afoot and whatever upper hand they may earn would be lost. If he could only save one, even if it meant being despised for it, he wanted it to be Albus. "I suppose in a way we are the same, you and I."

"So you will get Mr. Potter to leave?" Clarence asked hopefully.

"I will plead with him if I must."

* * *

><p><strong>January 13, 2032<strong>

"Scorpius!" Albus called out as he made his way to where Scorpius was walking out of his classroom. "I was going to go to Dragons Camp for dinner. Did you want to join me?"

Scorpius shook his head, tucking a large stack of papers under his arm. "I am afraid I haven't the time. I have some letters to send and then papers to grade."

"You're writing a lot of letters lately," he muttered suspiciously. "Girlfriend?"

Laughing at Albus's sudden inquisition, he shook his head. "Not even close."

"Good," Albus said without skipping a beat.

"Good?" Scorpius repeated. It was a simple response but also a strange one. Scorpius was not entirely sure he had heard properly.

Having his words repeated flustered Albus. Adjusting his jacket, he cleared his throat, trying to be as dismissive as possible. "I just meant I wouldn't want to deal with a love sick friend is all!" Scorpius continued to look at Albus curiously so Albus took that moment to turn and walk in the opposite direction before Scorpius could question him anymore. "Alright, I will see you in the morning for breakfast!"

Scorpius shook his head with a light chuckle. He would have to take care of whatever it was that was happening between him and Albus. It was not usually in their nature to dance around a subject, no matter how unusual or awkward. But, for the time being, he had much bigger things to worry about.

Walking to his quarters, he quickly got dressed. There soon came a light tapping at his window. Opening the window, he allowed Artemis into the warm room. Letting him find a comfortable perch he took the package. It was from Pansy Parkinson. He grinned as he quickly unwrapped it. Just as he had requested, she had send him two stones. Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he grabbed one of the stones and tucked it back into his pocket.

He now stretched a bit as he sighed. Using a Portkey across too great a distance always left him feeling a little nauseous. The last thing he wanted to do was to show up at Lorcan's home and promptly vomit all over his shoes. He had taken this journey more times than he would have liked over the last few days. He would have to send Ms. Parkinson and Ms. Bulstrode rather nice gifts once it was all over. He was sure fast tracking approval for his international Portkeys probably violated several ethics codes at the Ministry. Oh well.

Touching the stone, the world around him passed by in a flash, and when it stopped, he found himself outside of a small cottage. A young man, about Scorpius's age, approached him, hugging a thick coat around him.

"S-s-scorpius," the man greeted nervously. The man was several inches shorter than Scorpius and much thinner by far. His hair was a dirty blond and went past his shoulders in straggly curls. His eyes were large, making him look to be constantly surprised. Scorpius always thought it made him look excessively nervous.

"Scamander? Where is your brother?" Scorpius asked as he walked to the man. "He was supposed to be the one to meet me." Lysander and Lorcan were the twin boys of Luna and Rolf Scamander. Lorcan had been sorted into Ravenclaw and was by far one of the most intelligent people he had ever met. That was why Scorpius had been hoping to meet with him. Lysander, the younger of the two, on the other hand, had been sorted into Gryffindor despite being by far one of the most cowardly people Scorpius had ever met.

"He and my mother were c-c-called away," he explained quietly, biting at his bottom lip when Scorpius's gaze narrowed hostilely. "S-s-something about one of the articles they want to run i-i-in the Q-q-quibbler."

Scorpius looked him up and down, appraising. He had hoped to speak with Lorcan. When it came to potentially frightening matters, Lysander was more of a liability than a help. He checked his pocket watch. He had several other people he had to meet with that night and if he hoped to be back to Peppertongue before anyone realized he was missing, he would have to be quick. He could not afford to be too picky. "I suppose you will do. Come on. Don't dawdle," Scorpius sighed as he walked passed Lysander towards the small house, not even waiting to be invited din.

"W-w-what do you w-w-want, Scorpius?" Lysander finally demanded when they walked in from the cold. "You haven't c-c-contacted us in years. W-w-why now?"

Flopping down on one of the arm chairs by the fire, Scorpius sighed, glancing over at him. "Oh, do calm yourself Scamander. I am not here to antagonize you."

"You d-d-do that naturally."

Scorpius smirked. It seemed that Lysander had developed something of a spine over the last few years. He would have never dared to speak back to him like that had they been back in Hogwarts. "So I am told. No, I am here because you owe me a favor." Lysander looked increasingly uncomfortable as he busied himself with the tea kettle, pouring two cups of tea. Scorpius continued. "Does the name Colette Perkins ring a bell? I want you to put this into the next few issues of the Quibbler," he said, taking a folded piece of paper from his pocket, handing it to Lysander.

"B-b-but..." he sputtered in shock, the tea completely forgotten as he walked towards Scorpius.

"In a few weeks, I will send you a list of names. I will be expecting you and Lorcan to deliver an issue of The Quibbler with this page to every name."

"How many p-p-people?" he asked as he glanced at the paper. He was confused, it was just a Weasley Wizard Wheezes advert. It was the same one they had been running for the last few weeks.

"Not too many. Four, maybe five hundred."

"F-f-five... Malfoy, that is t-t-too much-!"

Standing, Scorpius reached into his coat pocket, bringing out a cloth bag and emptying its contents on the arm chair he had been sitting on. Lysander's eyes widened in awe as a wave of Galleons fell upon the old arm chair. "Five hundred Galleons up front, one thousand once they have been delivered. This should be more than enough to cover the costs...and your silence on the matter."

Lysander walked stiffly towards the money. It was more money than he had seen in a very long time. It was more than the Quibbler made in a year. Reaching out, he grabbed a handful of Galleons. They all looked freshly forged. Letting them fall from his hands, he glanced over at Scorpius.

Scorpius was expecting an accusatory glare or even awestruck wonder, but instead, Lysander looked at him, genuinely worried. "I take it that you are involved in something dangerous, then?" he asked, not a single stutter hindering his words.

Reaching out, Scorpius put a hand on Lysander's shoulder. Lysander did always have a strange habit of worrying for Scorpius's safety even when he was being black mailed. "Aren't I always? Good day, Lysander. Give my regards to your brother." Without another word, Scorpius quietly Apparated from the cottage. Lorcan had mentioned that Scorpius had several people to visit while he was in the country, so Lysander was not too surprised.

Sitting down in his chair, he eyed the Galleons suspiciously for several long moments, half worried they would suddenly turn to dirt. Five hundred Galleons was far too much money to run a single advert in the Quibbler. Glancing at the paper one more time, Lysander suddenly noticed something that had never been on the original.

In the corner of the page there was a strange symbol. Putting on his reading glasses, he moved the picture closer. It looked to be some sort of snake and from its position, it seemed like an Ouroboros. It was so well hidden, Lysander was sure that only someone looking for it would ever see it.

Perhaps, Lysander thought to himself, that was the whole point.

**TBC**


	12. Very Strange Creatures

**Author's Note: [07-06-2012]- **Edited for grammar and continuity issues. Happy Reading!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12<strong>  
><strong>"Very Strange Creatures"<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>January 14, 2032<strong>

Just how long Scorpius had been standing outside of Albus's door, he had no idea. It felt like hours, though in actuality could not have been more than a few minutes. Silently, he stood before the wooden door, contemplating just what to say to Albus when he finally gathered the courage to knock.

He would have to be brief. It was already dark and he had three Portkeys wrapped in handkerchiefs in his coat pocket. If he hoped to get any rest at all before classes the following morning, he could not stay long in any one place.

Scorpius had spent much of the last week globetrotting for the sake of "the cause" and while he did not regret it, he knew his body was beginning to show signs of strain. He was easily aggravated by the smallest thing. Just that morning, he had screamed at a first year who had dared to cut her pine needles into halves instead of thirds.

The distant screeching of owls returning from a night's hunt brought Scorpius back to reality. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on Albus's door and waited. There was a period of silence before he could hear the faint sounds of movement from the other side of the door.

As soon as the door opened, Scorpius spoke, barely giving Albus time to blearily see who was waking him up so late at night. "I need to speak with you."

"Scorpius, have you any idea what time it is?" Albus asked, voice barely above a whisper. There was no anger in Albus's voice or on his face, only worry. Stepping aside, he motioned for Scorpius to enter. Locking the door, Albus turned to look at his friend, concern evident on his face. It was not like Scorpius to make a social call so late at night. "What is so important that it could not wait until morning, Scorpius?" Albus asked, stifling a yawn as he wrapped his bedroom robes around him tightly, a slight shiver running through him.

Scorpius, however, barely seemed to be paying any attention to his words. He had Albus's suitcase out and was quickly shoving clothes into it. "You need to leave. Tonight. I already have a Portkey prepared for you."

Albus cocked an eyebrow. Normally, Scorpius's insistence would have been enough to get Albus to fall into line obediently, but there was something about his words that annoyed Albus. He was not sure if he appreciated that Scorpius left Albus no choice in the matter. Crossing his arms over his chest, Albus watched him. "I don't think so. I don't know what has gotten into you, but I am not going anywhere."

"And why not?" Scorpius demanded, temporarily stopping, two of Albus's shirts clutched in either hand. "I am telling you that your life is in danger!"

"I'm a teacher, Scorpius. My students are here. If there is a danger coming, I have to stay. I have to protect them."

Scorpius had had enough. In a flash, he had his wand out, pointed at Albus, "_Petrificus Totalis_" on his lips. Albus, however, was faster and Scorpius's wand was sent flying across the room. Albus was now eying Scorpius suspiciously, his wand pointed directly at him. Scorpius could just hear the thoughts crossing Albus's mind at that moment. 'Is this really Scorpius? Why would he turn his wand on me, if it is Scorpius?'

Bringing his hands up in a sign of surrender, Scorpius decided it would be better to properly explain himself. "This is about Belrose. I am sorry I almost petrified you, but you really do have to leave here, Albus." Scorpius expression softened as he continued, "Please. Go."

Though his wand remained pointed at Scorpius's chest, Albus was looking into Scorpius's gray eyes. Albus was never much of Legilimens, but around Scorpius he did not have to be. He lowered his wand. "If Belrose is causing you trouble, I most certainly am not going to go." Scorpius began to say something in protest, but Albus continued, "I was foolish once and left you to fight her on your own. I will not be making that mistake again." Albus gave Scorpius a reassuring smile. "Whatever she is blackmailing you with, I don't much care."

Scorpius began to laugh and Albus's smile faltered. "Blackmail? Albus, do you honestly think all of this is about _blackmail_?" Slowly, a dark smirk crossed Scorpius's face. "Blackmail, I can handle. This... is real danger."

Albus huffed. "So what if it's dangerous? Do you have any idea who, no, what I am?" Albus demanded, genuinely offended. "We are both the same age, so don't patronize me, Scorpius. I teach Defense against the Dark Arts, for God's sake," he said, walking towards Scorpius. "I don't appreciate how everyone treats me as if I am still some sort of child. I don't need you to protect me from everything."

Silence fell between the two men as Albus's words replayed in Scorpius's mind. In reality, the difference in their ages was a matter of months. Had five years apart really put such a distance between them in Scorpius's mind? He felt so much older than he was. His shoulders slumped at the realization.

Albus took a few steps closer and slipped his arms around Scorpius. "I just mean that you don't have to go out of your way to keep me safe. I might not be as gifted as you are in many respects, but I am far from weak, don't you think?"

Resting his cheek against Albus's shoulder, he pulled Albus firmly against him. "If you get hurt because of me..."

Albus just laughed as he reached up, gently rubbing Scorpius's back. "Well, then we will simply have to cross that bridge when we get there, _if _we get there. I am skilled at my job and I can hold my own in a fight. Sometimes, I don't even fight fair," he added with a sly grin.

Scorpius chuckled as he ran his fingers through Albus's perpetually messy black hair, ruffling the already unruly locks. "Acting like a Slytherin suits you."

Albus pulled back, their foreheads nearly caressing. Albus could practically feel Scorpius's cool skin against him. "You too," Albus muttered, voice hardly above a whisper, as green eyes met gray. When Albus stepped forward, his lips met Scorpius's. He tasted the mild bitterness of black coffee. Scorpius turned his head, a conflicted look on his face. Albus kissed his cheek. Scorpius slowly turned his head back to look at Albus, gray eyes searching green ones. Albus leaned up to press his lips against Scorpius's once more. He could feel the fingers beginning to move through his hair, drawing him closer. This time, Scorpius returned the kiss tentatively, but did not turn away from him.

Distantly, Albus could hear his brother's words from years ago ringing in his ear. 'When you finally do kiss someone you like, it's bloody fantastic! Butterflies and fireworks, all of it!' Albus felt neither butterflies nor fireworks. There was no nervousness or apprehension. There was only the rush of relief, as if Albus had been secretly holding his breath. The kisses were chaste and sweet. It was almost as if it were a natural result of dancing around one another for years. Inevitable.

Albus was the one to break the kiss. When Scorpius followed after him, Albus brought his hands up, fingers pressing against Scorpius's lips, stopping him. "Does this mean you give up trying to get rid of me?"

Scorpius smiled against Albus's fingers. Softly, he kissed them. "I never really wanted you to go. Please stay."

The feel of Scorpius's warm lips against his finger tips sent a shiver through Albus's body. The first kiss had been familiar. These subsequent kisses were unfamiliar and strange. And exciting. "Will you- will you tell me what is going on?" Albus tried to keep his voice steady. Another kiss was placed against the palm of one of his hand. "Ever since we returned, you have had this troubled look on your face. I hate it."

Another kiss, this one brushing against his wrist.

"I _am _troubled," Scorpius murmured, resting his cheek against Albus's hand, sighing. He suddenly seemed so defeated. "Belrose is an impossible enemy." Albus's heart ached. "I am out-numbered, out-classed, and out-matched. I have nothing she doesn't."

Albus moved his hands away from Scorpius's lips, cupping both of his cheeks. Gently he stroked against Scorpius's cheek with his thumbs. "You have me, now, don't you?"

Scorpius looked away as he laughed ruefully. "You don't understand."

Albus shook his head as he leaned close, kissing Scorpius's forehead to smooth the worry lines that were forming. "I think, for once, you are the one who does not understand. Whatever your burden, you don't have to bear it on your own. I will always be there to help you."

"Why?" Scorpius asked, his voice full of doubt. Scorpius could feel his chest tighten. He was finding it nearly impossible to control himself. He was afraid to hear the answer. He had always been afraid, that is why he had never asked.

"Because you are a right prat sometimes," Albus declared, pinching Scorpius's cheeks. Scorpius hissed, but Albus just laughed good-naturedly. "You annoy me, when you think about things too much and push me away when you really need me the most." Albus stepped back from Scorpius now, pulling his wand out, pointing it at Scorpius. "You were the best duelist in Slytherin back when we were at school, but since I have disarmed you, that makes _me_ better than _you_." Albus lowered his wand, giving Scorpius a gentle, hopeful smile. "May I be your equal now?"

Scorpius could have said something. He could have told Albus half a dozen excuses as to why his reasoning was hardly sound. He could have, but he didn't. There was something in the determined expression on Albus's face that stopped him. Scorpius wanted Albus to be right. For the first time in a long time, Scorpius wanted nothing more in the world than to be wrong.

Reaching out, Scorpius lightly pinched Albus's cheek. Albus laughed as he swatted at Scorpius's hand. "You cheated and you know it. But I think that proves that you are my equal more than anything else."

Albus smiled, reaching out, taking a hold of Scorpius's hand. "So, you will fill me in on this whole... Belrose business, then? The truth?"

Scorpius nodded his head. "The truth. All of it. But... try not to be disappointed."

"Disappointed?" Albus repeated before he laughed. "Why would I be disappointed to learn the truth? It isn't as if I was hoping she _was _blackmailing you."

"Disappointed in me, I mean. I can't promise that you will like the person I have become. I can't promise you that I will live up to your expectations," Scorpius muttered, taking a step back from Albus, looking away, out of the window. Albus followed him, putting a hand on his arm. Scorpius covered it with his own. "You really won't leave, then? Nothing I say can change your mind?"

"No." Albus did not hesitate for an instant.

"Even if I told you that..." Scorpius trailed off, searching for the right words, "People will try to hurt you? That you may have to hurt others?"

"Not even then."

"If you understood the real dangers of all of this, Albus, you would not be so foolishly brave," Scorpius murmured. He had given up trying to get Albus to leave, but that didn't mean he couldn't hope that Albus would see reason for himself.

Albus shook his head slowly, resting his cheek against Scorpius's shoulder. "The truth of the matter is I am scared. You are purposefully vague about the dangers. Anyone with common sense would probably not believe you."

"Then why do you?"

Albus chuckled, slipping his hand into Scorpius's as he looked out of the window. "It's simple, really. A long time ago I decided to put my faith in you. See? Simple."

Scorpius smiled softly as he squeezed Albus's hand. Clarence would be annoyed with him, that was for certain but for a few precious minutes, none of that mattered. The war, ever on the horizon, didn't matter. Belrose didn't matter. None of the monsters mattered. The only things that mattered were a mess of black hair and the trusting green eyes that considered him now. "Scorpius, what-?"

Lips met and Albus's questioning ceased for the time being.

* * *

><p><strong>January 19, 2032<strong>

Clarence could not say he was surprised when Scorpius brought Albus to their Headquarters and informed him, calmly, that Albus could not be leaving after all. He was angry, annoyed, and agitated, sure, but not surprised. Despite Scorpius's desire to keep Albus safe, Clarence had seen something else in his expression. He knew from the moment he told Scorpius to leave Albus Potter alone that the man could not do it. For someone who had done so many horrible things, Scorpius Malfoy seemed to be a man who still clung to his sentiments, whatever he said.

Albus had taken everything quite well, Clarence thought to himself. He knew that a lot of what was said that night could not have been easy to digest. They told him just enough to satiate his curiosity, keeping many of the details vague, but Scorpius interrupted Clarence when he had begun to tell Albus that Scorpius was as plagued as the rest of them. Even if he cared for Albus, Scorpius was not comfortable revealing everything.

Clarence supposed he understood. He was just thankful that Albus seemed to believe them, so he let the matter slide. If Clarence had not directly witnessed the horror Belrose was capable of, he knew he would be skeptical as well; however, it seemed that Albus's loyalty to both Scorpius and his students was absolute. "I will fight beside you," Albus said when Clarence had finished explaining the situation to him. Albus Potter was just a single man, a normal man, but having him on their side lifted Clarence's spirits.

In fact, in the days following Albus's entry into the group, support for their endeavor was already growing. The name Potter seemed to add credence to the cause. People had not forgotten that not too long ago, Harry Potter had tried to warn them of danger and they had ignored him until it was nearly too late. Clarence was thankful that people had become more cautious.

Even though Clarence and Huerta eventually relented and allowed Albus to remain in the group, there was a silent promise between them and Scorpius. Albus would be allowed to support the group, but he was not to be put into direct danger. They kept Albus in the headquarters, writing letters or training the others. Really, what he was doing for the group was similar to teaching his dueling club, though he was training students from all of the schools. When it came to how information was gathered, it was decided that, for the time being, Albus should be kept in the dark. If he knew the dangers his students were facing, he would insist on accompanying them. As far as Albus needed to be concerned, what he was doing was no different from Dumbledore's Army of decades past. In a way, it was fitting.

Several days ago, news had arrived that Belrose had returned to the area and had taken up residence in a large manor just outside of the city limits. Huerta suggested that Scorpius be the one to go gather intelligence on just what Belrose was planning.

Scorpius, however, refused. Belrose had a way of knowing where her top officers were at all times, and even though he had been "relieved" of his duties, he did not know if she would be able to sense him if he got too close. He was not willing to take such a risk, not with so much on the line.

Clarence agreed with him, even if Huerta was muttering under his breath. It was not that Huerta valued blind courage. He had just wanted to see Scorpius in the heat of battle, but up to that point, they had seen very little actual combat. Scorpius reprimanded him, but Huerta just laughed it off, promising one day that he'd properly cut Scorpius open and see what made him tick. Clarence was beginning to think that adults were very strange creatures. Huerta's motivations were questionable, but he was good at what he did and was a crucial asset to the group.

That night, Clarence contacted Sonya and Sydney Johnson, the Zenbazi Quidditch Beaters, and the three of them made their way to Belrose's Manor. It was a lavishly decorated building, surrounded by several barrier spells, though the group had been expecting as much.

Each took out a half dozen paper charms, all cut into the silhouettes of people. The three children placed them on their bodies, the papers charmed so as to stick to them. Once all of the paper charms were affixed, they made their way towards the Manor. With every barrier they passed, one of the paper charms flared up and turned to ash. Without the paper charms as stand-ins, it would have been the children who would have been burned by the protection spells. Whatever Belrose was guarding, she was willing to kill any intruder to protect it. That meant that was exactly where they had to go.

Once inside, they moved though the dimly lit halls quickly, several dozen charms on their bodies and clothing, making them faster, quieter. They all had their wands out, ready to attack anyone who crossed their paths, but it had been unnecessary. There did not seem to be a single person in the entire building. They quickly found one of Belrose's offices and began to search through her papers. Clarence could not shake the feeling that something was wrong with their current situation.

"Hey, Clare, get over here," Sonya hissed, motioning for Clarence to take a look at the folder of papers she had found. His eyes widened as he read through the documents. Belrose was not planning to take over Dragons Camp; she was planning to turn it into a giant training ground. It was then that the sound of distant screaming filtered into the room from the air ducts.

"Sonya, you get these papers copied," Clarence whispered, "then put everything back exactly how it was. Syd, you're coming with me. If Syd and I aren't back in ten minutes, Sonya, get out of here." The two sisters nodded their heads as they both set to work. If either sister was worried or afraid, they did not let it show on their faces.

Quietly, Clarence and Sonya slipped out of the office and made their way through the manor, following the sound as it seeped from the air ducts above them. They made their way through the lower levels of the manor. As they entered the lower basement, the sound of screaming was no longer coming just from the ducts. Instead, Clarence could hear it coming from down the hall.

Sonya and Clarence pressed close to the cold stone walls as they approached the doors from where the screaming was escaping. The door was ajar, bright light cutting through the darkness of the hall. Approaching the door, Clarence peeked into the door. His face paled in horror at what he saw.

A boy. He had seen him before, Clarence was sure. He was a boy from Zenbazi. He was held fast against a steel table. It was tilted up so that the young boy was practically hanging from the restraints around his arms and legs, his neck and across his chest, only the leather and metal straps keeping him upright. Belrose and a group of men and women, some with wands in their hands, others with clipboards, stood nearby, watching as the body screamed out in agony while silvery, iridescent liquid was pumped into him through needles in his arms, legs, and neck.

"More," Belrose spoke and one of the others would turn up several dials. This time, a bright red liquid poured through the tubes connected to the young boy's body. As soon as the liquid was injected into him, the screams became almost inhuman. The boy arched away from the restraints with such force, Clarence could see the bones in his arm strain from the effort. Clarence could sense Sonya take a step back. She was a student from Zenbazi, Clarence realized, she probably knew the boy personally. She couldn't want to watch a classmate of hers subjected to such torture all while she was powerless to stop it.

"More."

More dials were turned and even more of the liquid was administered. The boy was now smashing his head back against the street table, the only think he could do to attempt and end the pain. Blood almost as red as the liquid soon dripped down his neck as bone collided with metal.

Belrose never moved. The whole group seemed equally unimpressed. None seemed at all concerned by what they were doing to another human being, a child no less. The boy's gargling screams suddenly stopped as his whole body slumped. Machines began to issue alarms. Only then did the people in the lab coats begin to take interest, adjusting machines or taking notes.

"Damn it!" Belrose suddenly cried out as she walked towards the boy. Grabbing a scalpel from one of the medical trays, she slits the boy's throat suddenly, before stabbing it into his still body several times, screaming out in frustration with each thrust. The boy, however, did not move, did not scream. When she finished, she delivered one final blow to the boy's face, leaving the metal instrument embedded in the boy's left eye. "Weak," she finally spat out, panting lightly. She shook with anger. "Every single one of these is far too weak. Rutherford." Clarence's heart sank. "Rutherford!"

"Yes, Madam?" Franklin Rutherford said as he stepped in from one of the back rooms, a large pile of papers in his hands. "Is something the matter?" Setting down the papers, he approached the fuming woman.

She lashed out at him, hitting the old man as hard as she could. Even when he fell to the ground, she continued, delivering several swift kicks to his stomach. No one tried to stop her. No one even gave the scene a second thought, as if it were a common enough occurrence. Only when he was gasping for air, coughing up flecks of blood did she finally stop.

Almost as if nothing happened, she regained her composure. "The students you have been sending me as of late are proving to be far too weak for my needs, Franklin, my dear. They keep _dying _before the process is complete. It is beginning to annoy me."

"Perhaps you are pushing them too hard too early?" the man gasped, struggling to his feet.

"Perhaps you are simply not giving me the right ones. Do you want me to succeed, Franklin?" Belrose asked, her voice almost a purr as she slipped an arm around Rutherford. Reaching out one slender hand, she stroked the blood from his cheek white a pure white handkerchief.

"I do."

Belrose smirked, leaning in close to place a gentle kiss on his forehead. "Then give me the tools I need."

"I will,"Rutherford said as he bowed his head.

Clarence had seen enough. If he stayed there in that doorway any longer, he would not be able to stop himself from running into the room and killing Rutherford. As it was, his whole body was trembling from anger. He said nothing as he and Sonya made their way up the stairs. Sonya was the one to break the silence. "Wasn't that-?" She trailed off. She knew Clarence had understood her.

Clarence was silent. No confirmation was needed. Franklin Rutherford, Principal of Peppertongue, beloved mentor of hundreds, was in Belrose's employ. Rather than protecting children from harm, he was handing them over to the wolves. Clarence had to remain silent. If he opened his mouth, he would begin to scream and Clarence did not know when he would stop if he started.

* * *

><p>"Fucking traitor," Huerta spat out, the first to break the silence that had fallen over the group after Clarence gave his report. A stack of copied papers lay on the table before them, forgotten.<p>

"And you are absolutely sure about this?" Albus inquired softly. He looked distraught. Clarence had sympathy for him. Albus Potter was new to the group and was not yet used to the feeling of betrayal. Looking around at the people gathered around the table, Clarence knew the rest of the group had more than enough experience. Clarence could see that Albus was trying to detach himself from the situation. He absolutely had to, otherwise it would be impossible for him to face Rutherford the next day and pretend as if nothing had changed.

Sonya leaned against the table as she nodded, a sour expression on her face. "We saw him with our own two eyes. He was there with that bitch."

Scorpius cleared his throat. Knowing that Rutherford was on Belrose's side was an important tidbit of information, but it was not the reason the team had been sent into the devil's lair. As he sent a sidelong glance in Albus's direction, he had a feeling that changing the subject would not be a bad idea, in general. "Did you find out when she is planning this attack?"

"It's not an attack. It looks like it's more of a... demonstration," Clarence explained. Opening the folder of papers, he turned it so Scorpius could see the diagrams and charts on the page. "Whatever this demonstration entails, it will happen at the end of February. It doesn't give us a lot of time."

"Who was the student?" Albus suddenly asked. Scorpius sighed. He should have known that Albus would not have let the matter slide, especially when there was a child involved.

"Jeremy Collins," Sonya muttered, looking away from the group as tears sprang to her eyes.

Clenching his fists, Scorpius turned his gaze down to his feet. Albus saw the change and looked at Scorpius worriedly. Reaching out, he put a hand on his arm. "Did you know him well, Scorpius?"

A small nod. "I did." Scorpius looked at Albus. "You did too, in a way. He was the one that nearly punched your face in when we first ran into each other in Barrow's Books," he explained, a dark grin crossing his face. Jeremy Collins was a bit of a bully, but Scorpius always had pity for the boy. He had met his draconian parents. He had seen Collins come back to school from long weekends with the hint of bruises. He had seen the boy push people away. Scorpius pitied him. The boy may have been a bully, but no one deserved what Belrose was invariably doing to him.

Albus looked disturbed at the news, his hand trembling as he clenched it, steadying it against his legs. Albus truly was remarkable, Scorpius decided. Jeremy Collins was not even his student and the one occasion they had crossed paths, young Mr. Collins had attempted to forcibly separate Albus's head from his shoulders. Though young and inexperienced, it seemed Albus had turned out to be a better teacher than Rutherford.

"Clarence," Scorpius continued, "I want you to get some of the Zenbazi students to tail Collins. It's not as if she could just murder a student," he said, trying to reassure Albus. When it came to their particular war, Death was a variable thing. "He is probably back in the dorms now. I want them to see if he would be an asset." Clarence nodded his head, understanding his instructions. They often recruited from Belrose's castoffs.

"Scorpius..." Albus's voice was filled with disappointment, his eyes full of shock.

Scorpius just sighed. Albus really was a good teacher. Perhaps, too much so. "Leave us," he said, motioning for the rest of the group to leave the room. Scorpius was not the leader of the group as the group had no formal leader, but the rest of them understood the need for privacy in that moment and yielded to Scorpius's request.

Leaning against the table, Scorpius flipped through the report. He did not have to look at Albus to know his friend was looking at him expectantly. Scorpius, however, did not have a stirring speech in place. He was far too exhausted, physically and mentally, to be inspiring. He could only hope that honesty would not fail him in that moment. "I do not want to involve children, either, Albus, but look at us," he said tossing the folder onto the table, bringing a hand up to his forehead, rubbing at his temples. "We need everyone we can get. We are horribly outnumbered as it is."

Scorpius was not sure how he had been expecting Albus to react. Argue, perhaps. Certainly, he was expecting Albus to say something. What he was not expecting was the feel of Albus's hand on his shoulder. When he looked at him, Albus gave him an understanding smile in return. "I think I know of a man who might be willing to help. This way, we don't have to rely on the children as much."

He was thankful that Albus showed sympathy for their situation, but he doubted that Albus Potter of all people knew of anyone who could aid them in their time of need. After all, who could the Potters know that would be willing to commit what would probably be considered treason, among other things, when all was said and done? Scorpius doubted Albus's connection could help, but he had seen stranger things in his life. "This man wouldn't happen to an have arsenal at his disposal, would he?"

Albus laughed, shrugging one shoulder at the question. "I don't know about 'arsenal', but he has always had quite the affinity for explosions, in any case."

** TBC**


	13. Coconut and Marzipan

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the long break, but thank you for all your encouraging messages! It's always nice to see that people out there are interested in reading this story! I will do my best to release chapters a little more consistently as I plan to attempt to work on this fic for NaNoWriMo. :) As always, thanks to my beta! You rock, mate!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13<strong>

** "Coconut and Marzipan"**

* * *

><p><strong>January 23, 2032<strong>

"Don't look so unpleasant, Scorpius," Albus insisted. Scorpius huffed in annoyance as Albus patted his back. They walked along the dirt pathway towards a small shop on a hill. Morning in Cahersiveen was a peppered grey, a vast change from the California sky, and it made the distant shop stand out with its brown and red brick walls. There was a billowing smokestack on the side of the old brick building. Albus was pleased to see that someone was in, at least. They were on a tight schedule.

"I am not being unpleasant, Albus." That was a lie. Scorpius had practically been pouting ever since they took the Portkey to Ireland. The Portkey had to be calibrated to land outside the surprisingly powerful wards around the shop. Someone certainly didn't like to be surprised. Though that should have pleased Scorpius, he had instead been bubbling with complaints. It was only fear of seeming childish that kept Scorpius from actually airing his grievances. Not that he made any effort to hide the fact that he had them. "This is simply what my face looks like when I'm forced to meet someone I would rather avoid."

"You don't like him?" Albus looked genuinely surprised as he quirked a brow. " I was unaware you had even met him."

"Albus..."

"No, Scorpius," Albus said, exasperated as he stopped walking, "I'm being serious. Why don't you want to meet Mr. Finnigan?"

"Potter, you _do_ know who he is, don't you? He was rather well known in the Ministry, even if he did have to step back after the accident."

"I would think having him on our side would be quite beneficial." Albus folded his arms, a deep frown setting on his lips. He could understand where Scorpius was coming from, but he still believed that having someone with Seamus Finnigan's expertise and experience could only be a benefit.

Scorpius watched Albus for a few moments, sizing him up. When he realized that Albus was standing firm by his decision, he sighed. Albus internally cheered at his small victory. "It _would_ if he believed us. But this is a risk." Alright, now it felt like much less of a victory. "He could go to his Ministry friends and then we would have to fight off Belrose and the whole of the Ministry of Magic as well. Not my idea of an improvement."

"Don't be such a worry wart, Scorpius. He will believe us."

"How do you know?"

"Intuition," Albus provided without missing a beat.

Scorpius visibly cringed. With a slow shake of his head, he turned and continued to walk towards the hill at a brisk pace, his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat. "Merlin help me, I'm actually following a Potter's intuition." Albus just laughed as he jogged to catch up to him.

They both slowed as they walked closer to the building. Albus briefly paused to read the sign outside of the door. "Finnigan and Son." He had briefly met Seamus Finnigan several years ago at a Christmas party and he recalled that Seamus had been a Curse Breaker working for the Ministry. But, that had been prior to the accident. He had not heard much about what happened to Seamus afterward. No one had or if they had, they decided to not mention it. From the looks of things, Mr. Finnigan was now running a repair shop of some kind. Scorpius reached out and grabbed a hold of his wrist and sent him a concerned look. Albus knew that he was giving him one last chance to change his mind, but they had come too far to turn back down. Giving Scorpius a small smile he removed his hand and squeezed it wordlessly.

Not giving Scorpius a chance to speak, he stepped into the shop. The shop was cluttered with various half-repaired tools and appliances. There didn't seem to be anyone around, however, neither customer nor proprietor. Scorpius hung back by the door, as if ready to leave at any moment. "Hello, is someone here?"

There came an immediate thud behind the counter followed by a string of profanity. Albus looked surprised, Scorpius smirked. Soon, a young boy, looking to be around ten years old stood up, rubbing the top of his head, musing his red hair. "Oi, no need to yell, mate." The boy had smudges of grease on his cheek from fixing the tractor and was wiping his hands off with a towel as he regarded the two men in the shop. "If you've got something you want fixed, you'll have to fill out a requisition form first."

Remembering himself, Albus finally spoke up. "Oh, my apologies. My name is Albus Potter and this is—".

"Perkins," Scorpius interrupted as he took a few steps into the repair shop, running his fingers along the frame of an old grandfather clock. "Harold Perkins."

The boy looked at the two men suspiciously for a few moments while Albus studied the boy in return. He wore muggle clothing, a dirty jean and t-shirt ensemble. Albus thought for a moment he was a Muggle, but then realized that a boy his age probably had not even begun his magical education and had probably spent more time with Muggles than he had magical folk of his own ilk."Name's Aedan Finnigan," the boy finally said, flashing them a charming, toothy grin as he held out a hand. Scorpius looked at the dirty hand with distaste, but Albus grabbed it without a second thought, returning Aedan's smile. "So, are you gents customers or...?"

"Oh, sorry, no. Actually, we are here to speak with your..." He paused for a moment. He had said he was a Finnigan. He didn't recall Seamus mentioning any siblings and he looked far too young to be Seamus's brother. Aedan was most likely the "Son" portion of "Finnigan and Son." "Father," he concluded. "I'm sorry for not sending an owl ahead of us. We only need a moment of his time."

"Oh," Aedan muttered, turning his head away. This piqued Scorpius's interest so he moved to stand Albus.

Albus was not quite sure what to make of the change of mood in the young boy so he continued. "Do you happen to know where he is?"

"Mm, 'bout six feet under?" The boy offered.

Albus' eyes widened. "What?" He was sure that the boy was speaking in English, but his meaning made no sense to him. Perhaps "six feet under" was an example of delightful local slang.

"He died on a job." Or not.

"What?!" Scorpius cried out instantly. His distress was not so much that Seamus was dead, but more from the prospect that he had somehow missed such important news. Albus knew that Scorpius fancied himself something of a "Lord of the Grape Vine," so this had to come as a terrible shock.

It certainly was a shock for Albus, in any case. As soon as he recovered, Albus fell back on his experience from working at Peppertongue and was suddenly more concerned for Aedan's well being than the well being of his original plan. "Oh goodness… I am so sorry to hear that, Aedan! When did it happen?"

"Hmm," the boy hummed lightly as he looked up, thinking back."About five years ago."

That made Albus pause. That was around the time of the Christmas party when he had first met Seamus Finnigan. But he had heard his parents talking about him just earlier that year. "But..." It had to be a joke. "What?"

There soon came laughter behind them as a man, looking to be around Harry's age walked in. He had a jacket around his shoulders and a pipe between his lips. "Aedan, stop being a bother and go set the kettle,"he said around his pipe as he scratched his scruffy beard. Aedan sniggered as he nodded his head, running into the back part of the shop to set the tea. "Sorry for his foolishness, Albus. It's nice to see you again," he said, taking off his jacket with his left arm. The right sleeve of his sweater was pinned up, the arm missing.

Albus now better understood the nature of Seamus' accident and he did his best to be respectful and not draw attention to it. "Oh, thank god!" he declared, "When he said that you were six feet under… I thought he meant you died," Albus explained anxiously.

"I'm just fine. Granted, lost a wee bit of weight since you last saw me," he said patting his right shoulder. Albus blurted out with nervous laughter before quickly covering his mouth. Seamus just grinned, obviously not the sort of person to enjoy an elephant sitting in the room. "He means his real father."

"Real?"

"So, he's adopted then," Scorpius surmised.

"Right you are." Seamus walked behind the counter and took a seat on a stool. His focus was on Scorpius now. "What did you say your name was?"

"Perkins." Scorpius answered him with full sincerity. Albus always admired that about him. Most of the time, Albus was a rubbish con man. When questioned, he sometimes forgot his own lie.

"I suppose that's a marked improvement over 'Malfoy.'"

Both Albus and Scorpius visibly tensed, though only Albus seemed shaken. Scorpius, however, was otherwise relaxed after the initial shock. He dropped the smile and the pretense and crossed his arms, leaning against one of the counters. "So you know who I am."

"Even assuming your parents didn't both have your picture plastered all over their offices," He began to explain as Albus inwardly grinned,"You still look exactly like your father did at your age." Mrs. Malfoy seemed to be the sort of person to keep dozens of pictures of her family around in her office, but what surprised him was the possibility that Mr. Malfoy might do the same. It just helped to make them seem more human in his eyes.

"I get the feeling that was not a compliment."

"So, you are as clever as they say."

The atmosphere became quiet and tense. Albus interjected, hoping to salvage their meeting. "Ah… so, Mr. Finnigan—"

"Seamus," the older man cut in, "Seamus will do."

"Alright, Seamus, thank you." Albus tried the name. It was odd to be so informal, but he supposed it fit the situation better. The fact he was allowed to use it might be in his favor. "Well, we are here in the hopes that you would be able to do something for us."

"Mhm." Seamus leaned against the wall, tilting his stool backwards slightly.

"We hear that despite rumors that you have left a life of adventure and danger for the comparative safety of running a repair service, you still dabble in elements of your former profession." Albus hoped that if he managed to get what he wanted to say out all at once, Seamus would not become suspicious.

Instead, Seamus just cocked his head. "What?"

"He means we want you to make explosives," Scorpius summarized. "Lots and lots of them."

"Well, well, well," Seamus tutted, an impish grin sliding over his lips. "What on Earth sort of thing have you gotten yourself into?"

"It's for a party." Albus was thankful Scorpius had taken over the reigns. This sort of thing was more his forté than Albus's. "We wanted to make an entrance and figured we would trust the best there is."

"Well, you have quite the silver-tongue don't you?" Albus was not sure that was meant to be praise or not.

"That, I will take as a compliment." Scorpius either thought it was or was determined to make Seamus think he had.

After a long pause in which Seamus seemed to be analyzing them both intently, watchful for any signs of deception, he shrugged, having found none. "Very well. But I will need some time. I can't get all of the materials or this many explosives without drawing someone's attention."

"Understood," Scorpius said as he pulled out a small black book, jotting something down. "We have about a month."

"Certainly cutting it close aren't you?"

"What can I say? We live dangerously." Scorpius grinned and Seamus snorted in response, slipping the pipe from between his lips. He opened his mouth to speak, but there came a voice from the back room, approaching them.

"Seamus, I will have you know that Aedan is making a mess of the kitchen." A man, around Seamus's age and wearing the fine robes worn by workers in the Ministry strode into the shop. He paused when he noticed Albus and Scorpius. "Oh, hello. I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

"Hello," Albus greeted. When Scorpius said nothing, Albus realized the reason. The man standing before them was Dean Thomas. He had been making waves in the Ministry as of late and was exactly the sort of person they could not afford to cross.

"We should go," Scorpius said quickly. "We will contact you later, Mr. Finnigan. Thank you for your cooperation." And with that, he turned on his heels and left the shop with Albus in tow.

Scorpius seemed ready to get away while they were still ahead, but Albus was curious. "Wait," he whispered, grabbing a hold of Scorpius' sleeve and tugging him to a small window. Climbing on one of the old barrels, he peered inside. Scorpius, finding the whole thing juvenile, kept watch.

"What was that all about, Seamus? That was Harry's son and Scorpius Malfoy, wasn't it?"

"Maybe." Seamus shrugged as he emptied his pipe. Wand in hand, he sat in front of a half dismantled clock, tinkering with it.

"That's unnecessarily cryptic don't you think? What exactly did they want to talk to you about?" Dean pried as he picked up wrench, turning it over in his hands.

"A job."

"Seamus..." he warned, patience running thin. His frown reminded Albus of his mother's.

"Don't give me that Dean."

"Seamus, you don't need to take on odd jobs. You make enough from the store."

Seamus shoved the clock clear off the table, cogs and screws flying in all directions. Albus winced, Dean didn't respond. "Why do you think it's always about the money?" Seamus shouted, temper flaring.

"Then what?"

"This whole bloody thing." Seamus was quieter now, frustration clear on his face as he raised a hand, rubbing at his right shoulder.

Dean sighed, rubbing at his forehead. "Not this again."

"Yes, _this_ again."

"Must we always have this argument?"

"So long as you insist on keeping me here, then yes." Albus felt a wave of sympathy for Seamus had he not felt earlier. He had assumed that because he had joked about his arm, he was alright. But it was obvious that it bothered him. "I feel so useless, shoved in the middle of nowhere like this, given a little shop so I can just play the part of shopkeeper. I'm tired of having nothing to do." No, maybe it wasn't his arm that was bothering him. Maybe it was how he was treated because of it.

"I would think raising Aedan would have you preoccupied enough," Dean countered with a small smile.

Whatever rage had been bubbling in Seamus seemed to deflate. "Don't go bringing him into it, Dean. It just isn't the same."

"Then, what is the problem?" He asked, stepping closer to Seamus and gently putting a hand on the side of Seamus' neck. "How am I to help if you just yell but never tell me anything? You said you wanted something to do. That's what I gave you."

"I used to have adventure Dean," he explained, words so soft they were practically a whisper. Albus had to strain to hear the rest of what he said. "I used to face down danger and villains."

"Adventure that nearly killed you, or have you forgotten?"

"I haven't."

"I think you have." Dean let his hand drop away from Seamus and fall to his side. He clenched his fists so tightly they trembled. "Do you have any idea how devastated I was when I thought you had been killed? It was hard enough losing Aedan's parents… but thinking you had perished with them…"

Seamus was quiet for a few moments before proceeding cautiously. "I understand, but all the same, I can't keep living this boring life, Dean. I know what you've been doing," he explained and Dean twitched, "and for the most part I appreciate the sentiment."

"Seamus..."

"But I can't keep doing this."

"You have Aedan to take care of now. You can't just go throwing yourself in danger."

"I figured, if something happened to me, you would just take care of him," Seamus pointed out.

"Well, of course I would. That isn't…" It was clear that Dean was thrown off by the words. "That isn't the point and you know it."

"Oh come off it, mate. It's just a small job." Albus began to feel bad. He had no idea that asking for Seamus' help would have inconvenienced him so much. "It's not as if they're asking me to go fight Vol-"

"Seamus..." Dean growled, shuddering slightly. Even after all this time, some wizards and witches still couldn't bear to hear the Dark Lord's name. Albus had heard stories of what had happened during those times and couldn't really blame them.

"It's just some fireworks. That's all. Besides, I'm not much good to anyone like this, am I?"

"Dad, tea's ready," Aeden interjected as he walked out from the backroom. "Thought I'd make some sandwiches and - oh, they're gone. Pity." Seeming to notice the tension he glanced from Seamus to Dean and then back to Seamus. Dean looked at Aedan as he smiled, holding an arm out. The child grinned as he walked over to him, giving Dean a tight hug.

"Go on and get started, Aedan," Dean instructed, ruffling Aeden's red hair, kissing the top of his head. "Your dad and I will be joining you soon."

Aeden nodded his head as he turned around. He threw Seamus a worried glance, but went back to the back without another word.

When they were alone, Dean took a step towards him. "Seamus, listen, I-"

"No, there's nothing to be sorry for, mate." Seamus rubbed the back of his head as he sighed. "I guess I just need a vacation."

Dean nodded. Slowly, he smiled. "Maybe the three of us could take one soon?" he offered. "I'm going to a conference in Glasgow in a few weeks."

"Glasgow?" Seamus asked, making a face. Albus had to admit, Glasgow wasn't his idea of a fun vacation either. "Mate, I think they're having you on. Glasgow. You should petition for better trips!" Seam declared as he threw his arm around Dean's neck, tugging him towards the back where Aedan had wandered off. "Like the Bahamas!"

"Seamus," Dean said, shaking his head as the two of them disappeared in the back.

"Would you hurry up?" Scorpius hissed.

Albus pulled away and was about to tell Scorpius to just be patient when the top of the barrel he had been standing on collapsed. Before he even had time to cry out in surprise, Scorpius had swooped in and grabbed him.

The look of surprise on Albus' faced matched the one on Scorpius's. He had moved without thinking. Albus panted softly, his heart still racing. Scorpius recovered much faster.

"Albus, for the love of-"

"My hero," Albus cut in as he wrapped his arms around Scorpius' neck, giving his forehead a light peck.

Scorpius flushed slightly as he glanced away as he suddenly let go of Albus, letting him fall to the ground. "Let's go."

Albus just laughed as he got back to his feet, dusting himself off as he followed after Scorpius.

* * *

><p><strong>January 26, 2032<strong>

Scorpius had spent the last few hours setting charms on small boxes. Paper charms were not something that had been taught at Hogwarts, but several of the witches and wizards in their little army came from around the world and they brought with them countless new charms and spells Scorpius had never even seen.

The paper charms were just one of them. It was clever, though a bit too poetic for Scorpius.

He had just finished plastering the last of the boxes with the charms when there came a loud, impatient knock at the door. Scorpius was annoyed at the interruption until he opened the door and saw an equally irate Albus, arms crossed and his foot tapping quickly. "Hello." Even to him, his words sounded weak.

"Really?" Albus snapped. "You stand me up for lunch three days in a row and that's all I get? 'Hello?'" He stepped past Scorpius and into the room, not even waiting to be invited in. They were past that point, anyway. Albus sat down on the bed and frowned sharply.

Scorpius genuinely felt terrible. He had been so busy the last few days... No, there was no use in excuses. He should have let Albus know he had to cancel. Leaving him like that asked a lot, even for Saint Potter, the Second. Picking up the still-wrapped box his mother had sent him, he held it out to Albus with a small smile. "Chocolate?" There was no need to unwrap them. His mother always sent him incredibly expensive sweets.

Albus glared up at him. For a moment, Scorpius was worried that maybe he had truly ruined his relationship with Albus. Luckily, a moment later, Albus's poker face faded as he took the box and gingerly peeled the wrapping away. "Fine," he muttered as he picked up a delicately handcrafted chocolate and took a bite. The small moan that he tried to stifle made Scorpius inwardly grin. He knew all was forgiven. After eating a few more pieces, Albus finally bothered to look at all of the small boxes around the room. "What's all this then?"

"The boxes?"

"No, the _other _suspicious charm coated things in your room," Albus laughed as he licked the chocolate from his lips.

"I like to think of it as an insurance plan."

"What are all these symbols?" Picking up one of the small boxes, he turned it in his hands. He shook the box, but no sound came from it. He supposed that was part of the charm.

"Just something I picked up."

"What exactly do they mean? Wait, this looks like the box you had a while back."

"It's just a special charm so that only the person who is supposed to open the box will be able to."

"What exactly do these symbols mean, though? Who is the box for?"

Scorpius grinned. Albus looked like a child whenever curiosity was beginning to get the better of him. He could have told Albus, but that would not have been remotely as entertaining as watching Albus squirm. "What, and spoil the fun? I thought you enjoyed playing detective?"

Albus hummed softly as he set the box of chocolates away as he examined the box, turned it over every which way. He tapped it with his wand, attempting every charm he personally knew. Scorpius sat down on his desk and watched him. It was like watching a cat with a new toy. After a while, Albus looked up at him and grinned triumphantly. "I know what they are."

"Oh, is that so?" Scorpius chuckled.

"Well, your box said 'bad faith', which was a reference to your name," he explained. "I suspect that's how the charm words, through the power of declaration. Now, while my full name hasn't got much of concise meaning..."

"That's true," Scorpius agreed.

"My initials do!"

Scorpius made a show of contemplating Albus' words. "Asp."

"Asp, exactly!" Albus declared, puffing his chest out slightly, proud of his deductive abilities. "So, I suspect that is what these symbols refer to."

"Asp, you say?"

"_Vipera aspis_, yes! I mean, really," he muttered with an impish grin, "Who else would you be giving a gift to if not me?"

"Now, that is true! You certainly do deserve some sort of prize for putting up with me."

"You're right. I do. Remember that when my birthday rolls around," he added with a snort.

Scorpius was about to return to his work when he noticed the book that Albus had set on the bed beside him. It looked old. "What is this anyway? I've seen you reading it for days now. You are usually such a quick reader, I would have assumed you would have finished it by now," he asked as he picked it up, flipping through the pages.

"Actually, I'm doing research."

"What, about Hogwarts?" He ran his fingers along the old covered of the book. It looked like something that would have fit right at home in the Hogwarts Library. What Albus was doing with such a book, he had no idea. He probably picked it up at some point when they had gone back home from the holidays.

"The Founders, to be more specific."

"Interesting," he muttered. Interest in trivial information was more Albus' hobby, anyway.

"You know, there are a lot of secret about Hogwarts that few people know about."

"I'm sure."

Albus cross his arms again as he clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Don't you find that interesting?"

Scorpius rolled his eyes. "We are facing an army of power hungry witches, wizards, and Muggles that have more resources and bodies than our side does. I would have assumed you would have been too interested in _that_ to have energy to spare doing extra research on unrelated rumors," he snapped, tossing the book to the bed beside Albus.

He regretted it immediately as he looked at the genuinely hurt look on his face. Albus looked down and muttered a softly, "Sorry."

"No," Scorpius murmured, sitting beside him. "I'm sorry. That came out wrong." The two sat in relatively silence for a while. Eventually, Albus slipped an arm around Scorpius's waist and scooted closer, resting his cheek against his arm.

"Actually, for what it's worth, it might not be completely unrelated," he murmured, voice still soft, though no longer sounding cowed.

"How do you figure?"

"Well, according to this..." he started, picking up the book and flipping to a page in the pack of the book. There was pictograph of the Basilisk that had once dwelled in the Chamber of Secrets. "'Far beneath the castle, there is a weapon that was created to keep the magical world safe from harm. If it exists, it seems like exactly what we need."

Scorpius glanced at the page. Reaching out, he turned it to the page before then flipped to the page after. He admitted quietly to himself that such a weapon would certainly prove beneficial to them."So there's supposedly a huge weapon under the school? Why haven't I heard of anything like this until now?"

Albus laughed nervously. "Well, the rumor fell out of vogue well before our time. or even our parents or grandparents. Sorry. Perhaps it wasn't as useful as I thought it might be."

"Don't be sorry," Scorpius assured him. He paused for a moment, not wanting to be to forward, before he leaned closer and pressed a soft kiss against Albus's temple.

Luckily, that seemed to be the right thing to do because Albus scooted closer. "It's partly your fault. You never have me do anything that really challenges me. I get bored. I get to thinking."

"I really shouldn't allow that in the future," he said, grinning from ear to ear.

Albus looked at him. "What are you thinking?" Scorpius waggled his eyebrows, suggestively. Albus' flushed as he shoved him away. He huffed as he took the box of chocolates, putting one in his mouth. "Don't think I've completely forgiven you for standing me up these last few days. Do you think I just wait around for you to invite me out for lunch?"

Even though Albus had done just that.

"Never," Scorpius chuckled as he made his way back to Albus's side and laid down, his head in his companion's lap. "If I promise to take you out on a proper lunch soon, would you consider forgiving me?"

"We always go out to restaurants."

"No, not to a restaurant," Scorpius explained. "Some place nicer. Just the two of us."

Albus could feel his heart racing, cheeks heating. Scorpius just grinned up at him with that damn charming smile of his. Setting the box down he reached out, softly carding his fingers through Scorpius's hair. The blond's smile softened. Albus twirled a lock of platinum hair around his finger. He liked it when Scorpius left his hair uncharmed. It was softer, more pliable, Albus liked touching it. Eventually, Albus remembered his voice. "I suppose that will do."

Scorpius laughed softly, the sound breathy. "Then if you forgive me, how about a chocolate?"

Albus grinned as he complied.

Scorpius made a face.

"Coconut..."

Albus laughed as he pressed a second piece to Scorpius' lips. "It'll be coconut and marzipan until you give me this promised lunch. It's the only way I can keep you honest."

Scorpius ate the second piece, nipping playfully at Albus' fingers in a half-hearted protest.

* * *

><p><strong>January 27, 2032<strong>

Belrose slipped her fingers along the soft silk material of the black vest. It would look perfect for Lucas. She still felt bad about having to leave him with that horrible excuse for a human being during the holidays and fully intended to make it up to him. After all, her time of glory would be coming soon and Lucas would be standing beside her when the moment came.

He would have to look as lovely as she did.

"So, this is what you are doing instead with your reprieve," a voice said from just behind her, having all of the warmth of velvet, though hinting at a sharpness hidden just underneath. Belrose didn't need to turn around to see who it was, so she didn't. The man continued to speak as he walked beside her. "Interesting strategy, Casandra," the man murmured as he reached out and sweep her blond locks over her shoulder, revealing her slender neck.

"Gabriel," Belrose greeted. She smiled as she said the name through gritted teeth, but her eyes filled with barely contained disgust.

"Don't say it like that," Gabriel purred. Slipping an arm around her waist, she spun her around. "You make me sound like such a bad guy." Gabriel was a well-dressed man, wearing a black business suit. His black hair was slicked back and his eyes were an icy blue.

Belrose would have hexed him into oblivion, but she was painfully aware of the eyes on her and Gabriel. She still had a reputation she had to uphold. "What do you want?" She continued to smile as she reached out to place her hands on his arms, digging her long nails deep into his skin.

He winced just slightly and let her go, but Gabriel never lost his grin. "I saw your guard dog having lunch with a sweet young thing in the cafe in the book shop. I would have thought that you would have euthanized him long before you retired him. I supposed motherhood had made you weak."

"I would have thought that spying would have been beneath you," she sneered, reaching out to smooth his tie.

"You seem to be losing your handle on your people," he said softly, taking a hold of her hand and bringing it up to his lips, kissing her fingers. She could tell that the women around her were probably melting at the sight of him. She supposed to the uninformed person, Gabriel was quite the attractive specimen. But she had seen him at his worst. She knew the sort of scum he was.

When her time came, he would be the first to be slaughtered.

"I still have a month; there's no reason to send in the execution squad quite just yet."

He leaned in close and she thought he would kiss her cheek, but instead, he whispered into her ear. "That son of yours is a real sweetheart." Belrose saw red. The window near them suddenly cracked. The shopkeeper scrambled to mend what had suddenly broken. "Oh, touchy subject is he?"

"Stop," she muttered, pushing at his chest.

Instead, he continued, this time, pressing his lips to her exposed neck. "I wonder if he is anything like this mother."

More cracks began to form. "Shut your mouth."

"I bet he is, in all the ways that count," he muttered. The cracks ran lower and lower. "If he's not careful, someone might take advantage of him." The glass began to strain.

Belrose grabbed a hold of the front of his shirt and pushed him behind one of the standing walls, away from prying eyes. "I will kill you," she hissed angrily.

"I bet he kisses like you do," he murmured against her neck, brushing his teeth against her racing pulse. "I'll show the world exactly what a monstrosity he is. Just like his mother."

A few meters away, the glass window completely shattered, sending glass shards flying everywhere.

"When he screams for me, I promise, he'll really be screaming for you."

Belrose opened her mouth to scream a curse, her signature spell on the tip of her tongue, but Gabriel was faster. He crushed his lips against hers, attempting to claim a kiss.

Power struggles was a game Belrose had been playing before Gabriel had even be born. Grabbing him she pulled him closer and kissed him in return. The kiss was violent and served an express purpose.

Gabriel was the first to pull away after Casandra had bitten down on his tongue so hard that she had drawn blood. He panted as he grinned at her. "As much as I would love to take this to its logical conclusion... I really should go, Casandra, my love," he purred, moving with her back into the main area, back into the spotlight. She could see the look on the faces around her. She knew that they thought happened.

She laughed darkly to herself. They were probably envious of what she had. They had no idea.

Fools, all of them.

"You too, Gabriel, my pet." He took a hold of her chin and tilted it up, kissing her again before leaving the shop to the car that waited for him outside.

A young attendant, obviously smitten by Gabriel's devilishly charming airs, walked up to her under the guise of helping her choose something. "Who was that?"

Belrose chuckled as she picked up the vest she had been eyeing earlier. This girl was as big a fool as she seemed, her voice all husky and filled with exposed desire. Belrose was always one to extinguish foolishness at its source. In this instance, she was doing an act of community service.

"Him? Oh, he's just my husband."


	14. Young Recruits

**Author's Note: **Told you I haven't abandoned you! Thanks go to my beta for checking in on me periodically to make sure I hadn't died! I'll try to take less than a year on the next update!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14<strong>

**"****Young Recruits****"**

* * *

><p><strong>January 28, 2032<strong>

Logan hummed softly to himself as he flipped through the book on advanced uses of worm wood, though he was only giving it half the attention it really deserved. It was a fascinating text, but his mind was on more important things such as a certain Quidditch team captain who had, after much placating, agreed to make things between the two of them official.

He knew he was acting weird and was half certain he had been walking around the last few days with the weirdest grin on his face, but he didn't care.

Finally, he got the girl!

She asked him to keep things quiet until the end of the Quidditch season for the sake of the team, and, being as head over heels for her as he was, he agreed immediately. Not that he wasn't dying to tell his two best friends everything, of course. Logan wasn't usually one to kiss and tell but…oh, who was he kidding? He was totally the sort of person who lived for the chance to kiss and tell everyone who let him.

When he heard a knock on his door, Logan jumped to his feet and rushed to open it. "Hey!" he greeted with enthusiastic fervor as he stroked back his sandy brown hair, trying to appear well collected. The enthusiasm wavered ever so slightly when he realized that it was only Matthew at the door. "Oh, it's just you."

"Of course it's me, dude," Matt said with a chuckle as he walked past Logan into his dorm room. The invitation was unspoken between them at that point. He flopped down on Logan's bed and picked up one of his text books, flipping through it. "Who else would it be? _Maddy_?"

"Shut up."

"What is all this anyway?"

Logan sat down on the bed and grabbed his stack of papers and pencils, setting them on the small table beside his bed. "Just some stuff for Mr. Malfoy. I asked him for books I could look over during the winter break and he must have given me, like, ten. He wants all these reports about them done by Monday."

Matt couldn't help but laugh at his friend's misfortune. "So you weren't kidding when you said that you were studying during break."

"Ugh," Logan groaned as he fell back against his mattress, covering his face with his arm, "Fuck my life. Why do I keep doing this to myself?" Logan was half-tempted to drift off to sleep when he heard some soft rustling. Sitting up with a start, so fast he actually made Matthew jump, he saw that an envelope had been slipped under the door. It caught Matthew's attention as well. Getting up, Matthew picked it up, turning it over curiously in his hand.

"It's addressed to both of us."

"Well? Open it," Logan instructed. For the moment being, he was willing to overlook just how anyone could assume the two of them would even be in the same room that late at night. Maybe the letter writer was lazy and only felt like writing one. Logan didn't tend to think the best of people he'd never met.

Matthew didn't need to be told twice. Opening the envelope, he tugged out a yellowed piece of paper.

"Well, what's it say?" Logan asked curiously as he got out of bed and stood beside his taller friend, trying to get a look at what was written on the letter.

Matthew just grinned excitedly. "It looks like an invitation," he replied as he handed Logan the paper. The flowing letters looked oddly familiar. That didn't matter, though. In fact, it simply added the atmosphere. They now knew the 'what', but the 'who' still remained a mystery. Not that either Matthew or Logan minded much. They loved mysteries.

* * *

><p>Logan sneezed loudly, his sound echoing throughout the empty Owlry. He hugged his coat closer to himself as he looked around. "Are you sure we're in the right place?"<p>

Matthew nodded as he checked his watch. "'10 PM, Owlry', just like it says." Logan was annoyed that Matthew looked so…fucking chipper for being so late at night. As someone who liked to stay in bed for as long as possible, Logan both envied and hated the fact that Matthew seemed to run like some sort of machine, always getting the exact amount of sleep needed, no matter the circumstances.

"Then who the fuck are we waiting for?" Logan snapped. He knew it was irrational. There was no way that Matthew knew any more than he did. Not that he cared. He was tired and irritable. He knew it wasn't much of an excuse, but it was the only one he had and he was sticking with it.

"Just be patient," Matthew chastised. He didn't like waiting any more than Logan did, but if they wanted to know who had wanted to meet with them so badly, they would have to wait until the mysterious writers showed themselves. Granted, Matthew wished that they could have met during the day. Lucas had invited him to go on an evening flight and Matthew had to make up an excuse. He hated missing out on dates, and he hated lying to Lucas. He hoped that that the person who wrote the invitation was worth it.

The message had sounded important. It had said that the meeting was a matter of grave importance. With an exaggeration like that, what could Matthew do but wait?

Luckily, it did not seem to be his fate to have to wait long. At ten past, a small owl flew into the tower. It dove at Matthew first, then at Logan, before dropping a small box at their feet and flew back out the window before either of them could stop it. Logan was dusting his coat off, having gotten loose downy feathers on himself from the 'attack'. That was when he noticed the box. He picked it up, turned it over once, twice, three times, and then handed it to Matthew to open.

Logan was curious, sure, but he would much rather leave the actual dangerous stuff to other people. Matthew knew that about his friend, but that didn't seem to bother him. Much, anyway. He accepted the box and slowly eased the top of it off. Huh. Strange.

"Is that…" Logan paused as he leaned in to get a better look when Matt opened the box, "…a coin?"

Matthew nodded as he pulled out a small folded piece of paper. "There's a note, too." He started to read the note before glancing at the coin, a concerned look on his face.

"What's it say?"

"It says that the coin's a Portkey. Whoever wrote the letter wants to meet with us, but not here."

A silence fell between them. It was obvious that they were thinking the same thing, but it was Logan who broke the silence first. "What should we do?"

Matthew ran his fingers through his dark brown hair before adjusting his glasses, a nervous habit. Logan was waiting for Matthew to tell him what to do, like he usually did. Like everyone usually did. Matthew had somehow turned into the go-to for advice, whether or not he actually knew what he was talking about. He took a deep breath. "Well, I want to say, fuck it, let's go for it. Because you know, youthful recklessness and whatnot."

Logan nodded his head. "Agreed." It made sense. They were young. They were tough. They could (theoretically) handle whatever that Portkey lead them to.

"But, then again, this could be a trap and the last thing I want is to be jumped by those assholes at Kingston so close to the Potions Tourney."

"Also, agreed." Matthew had a point. If this was all an elaborate plan, they could be boned right before the next tournament. Potions were usually their best bet to score points towards the Cup. They did not want to screw it up, especially considering how hard they'd worked to get as far in Quidditch as they had. "What to do, what to do...?" Logan wondered aloud, chuckling nervously. He hoped that Matthew would be able to point them in one direction or another. He hated to be the one to have the final word on matters.

More silent deliberation.

Then, Matthew grabbed Logan wrist with one hand and, with the other, palmed the coin. The world around them began to melt as Logan felt them being pulled suddenly downward. When they finally stopped, they were in some sort of lab. It actually looked straight out of a cheesy sci-fi movie.

"Hello there, you two," said a voice between them. Logan and Matthew spun around suddenly, wands at the ready. Logan was about to utter a familiar disarming charm when he recognized the person who had greeted them.

"No fucking way."

Clarence smiled at the two young men sweetly as he walked over to one of the tables, running his fingertips along the metal instruments. He picked up a pair of forceps, turning them over in his hands. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"A little bit, bud," Matthew said with a weak, nervous sort of laugh. He glanced at Logan, unsure of what was going on. "Last we heard, your folks had you locked up in some psych ward."

Clarence set the forceps down as he grinned a bit. "Oh, I was. Awful things, those wards. Not a big fan at all of being restrained by Muggles."

"How did you get out?" Logan asked, curiosity written all over his face. Clarence had been expecting that, of course. Among young witches and wizards, psych wards were a place only spoken of in hushed whispers. Before the magical community had begun to utilize squibs in the Muggle government, many poor souls were lost in Muggle mental hospitals. It was a special kind of hell no one liked to think about.

"Well, I was only restrained by Muggles," he explained, as if the answer should have been obvious. "I got out the usual way."

"Explosion?" Logan asked.

"Charms?" Matthew suggested.

"Hexes?"

"Curses?"

Clarence made a face at their rapid-fire conjecture. "Apparition, boys." He couldn't help but chuckle at the look of disappointment on their faces. It looked like they had actually been hoping that Clarence had made some sort of daring escape. He hated to disappoint them, but this was real life, not some story.

"Clarence, man, you've changed," Matthew finally said. Clarence should have figured that it would be Matthew who would opt to address the elephant in the room directly. "You used to be a total…well…"

"Bitch," Logan finished without skipping a beat. Matthew looked at him with wide-eyed shock, punching his arm. Logan just shrugged, nonplused by his friend's chagrin. "Sorry, but he was. You totally were, man."

Matthew tried to form some kind of apology, but Clarence just held up a hand dismissively. There was no need to apologize for stating the truth as far as Clarence was concerned. "I was a bit of a coward, it's true. But things have changed."

"Yeah, no shit," Logan snorted. He glanced around, taking in the strange atmosphere completely this time. Strange vials. Odd tanks full of water. The stench of burning flesh hanging in the air. "What exactly _did_ you get into?"

"I am now with purpose," Clarence declared, chest puffing out proudly.

Matthew and Logan looked at each other incredulously. "This isn't some kind of weird religious initiation is it?" Matthew asked, taking a step away from Clarence cautiously. "'Cause, listen dude, you can believe whatever you want, I'm not going to knock you for it, but I just don't-"

"Oh no, nothing as unsubstantiated as that," Clarence assured them. "Tell me, are you familiar with the Philosopher's Stone?"

"Come on," Logan declared, sounding a little insulted. "We aren't Lucas. We actually do listen in class."

"What if I told you that not only does such a stone exist, it exists in a large quantity?"

"Then I'd have to call you a fucking liar, for one," Logan snapped back. Clarence nodded his head. He had been expecting that. Walking over to one of the tables, he pulled out a scalpel and held it firmly in his hand. Turning to look at Logan and Matthew, he could see them reaching for their wands nervously. He grinned as he pressed the blade against his own slender neck. Logan's eyes widened in horror. "Hey, hey… Put that the fuck down, dude..."

Matthew was so nervous Clarence could see his body trembling ever so slightly. It had been so long since Clarence had last felt that level of fear. He was almost jealous. "Clarence," Matthew pleaded, "Look we believe you, alright?" Clarence moved his blade down. Matthew relaxed for the first time since arriving at the strange laboratory. The blond-haired wizard just smiled as he looked from Logan to Matthew. When was the last time that he had seen such innocence, such naivety? He would soon put an end to that, he thought. With one swift movement, he slashed the scalpel across his throat, sending a spray of blood out, coating the floor.

"No!" Matthew screamed out as he rushed to catch Clarence as he fell. He covered the hissing wound with his hand, clutching it as tightly as he dared, but it wasn't enough. Blood gushed from between his fingers all the same.

While Matthew sat in shock, trying to do what he could to revive the fallen wizard, Logan was pacing back and forward like an agitated creature backed up against a corner. "Fuck! Fuck... Fuck! What do we-" he accidentally glanced down at Clarence's bloodied body before turning his head away in disgust, "What the fuck was the whole point of that?!"

"Calm down!" Matthew snapped, his sharp mind already beginning for formulate a plan. Where Logan was quick to action, Matthew was always much calmer. " We need to think, alright? No one knows we're…" he glanced around. He felt a twinge of helplessness. "Wherever the fuck we are. No one. We can just…go somewhere else. Find the surface, go back to school. Pretend like this was all a huge nightmare."

"And what about that?" Logan demanded, motioning towards the body.

"That…" Matthew started as he got to his feet, letting Clarence roll off of his lap and fall to the flood, "is not our problem."

A silence fell between the two young boys. They had done many things together, but hiding a suicide was not one of them. A number of emotions began to fill their gazes. Worry. Concern. Pity. Confusion. Anger.

It was then that Clarence's unseeing eyes began to see once more and he began to make a sharp, hissing sound that could have been a laugh. "'S not very nice. I have a name."

At first there was silence. And then there was screaming. And kicking.

"OW!" Clarence cried out as he rubbed at his side. Logan and Matthew jumped away, wands clutched in their white-knuckled fists, panting from fear. "There is no need for that…"

"You… what!?" For once, words failed Matthew entirely. "Explain!"

And so Clarence did just that. He told them of the so-called Philosopher's Stones and of Belrose. He told them of Scorpius and Albus' involvement as well, to lend some credence to the cause. He told them of everything that their organization stood for and everything they hoped to accomplish.

When he finally fell silent, Logan and Matthew just looked at each other. They weren't quite sure of what to make of what they had just been told. Logan at least lowered his wand and leaned back against one of the tables. "Sure. That makes sense. Now you're part of some sort of clandestine after school program dedicated to bringing down the forces of evil and making America safe once more for young witches and wizards, regardless of blood status. What the fuck, Clarence." It was too much as he chuckled derisively, shaking his head.

"You joke, but I'm quite serious. And it is far from some kind of school club. There are only a handful of young people in the group at all. Most of them are adults."

"Then if there are already so many adults, why do you need us?" Matthew asked. He tried to put Clarence's little performance out of his mind. It had shaken him, but he had more pressing issues to tend to at the moment.

"Because," Clarence began, slowly getting to his feet, "age means nothing when it comes to talent, and your abilities are most impressive. I want to bring you into the group."

"I don't know…" Matthew began, still gripping at his wand, but lowering it to his side.

"Matthew, this is great," Logan suddenly declared. Matthew wasn't too surprised. He might have just seen a man die and then come back to life, but when it came to an opportunity to show off, Logan would always go for it. He could see it in Logan's eyes, the desire to prove himself, in front of an audience if possible.

Matthew sighed loudly. "Does Lucas know? About his mom, I mean."

"She isn't his mother," Clarence corrected him, "She isn't anyone's mother."

"Does he know?" Matthew asked again, this time punctuating each and every word. Matthew was usually so well composed, but it seemed that composure dissolved when Lucas was involved. Clarence filed that little bit of information away.

"He doesn't," Clarence answered. He was not sure what Matthew would do. Just a year ago, Clarence would have considered both Logan and Matthew to be incredibly simple and easily manipulated. But now… Matthew was different from the man he used to be.

"I'll do it," Matthew eventually answered. Logan hollered and cheered, eager to face the new challenge. Clarence was pleased. Matthew might have changed, but not enough to disrupt his plans.

"Excellent choice," Clarence said as he motioned for the two young recruits to follow him.

* * *

><p>Scorpius was absolutely livid as he watched Logan and Matthew training down below. Clarence had summoned him down to the training room to show their newest members of their group. Scorpius had been expecting seasoned witches or wizards, but when he saw his own young students, he had lost his patience. "Are you deaf, Clarence?" he screamed, "I thought I had made myself perfectly clear. Do. Not. Recruit. Children."<p>

"They aren't children, Malfoy," Clarence replied coolly. Scoripius' rage was no longer enough to frighten him.

"They are not even involved!"

Clarence shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest, defiant and proud. "They're plenty involved and you know it."

"_Obliviate_ them."

"I won't."

They were at a stand-still. Scorpius hated that. He looked out the window to the training grounds below. Logan and Matthew were very good. Albus had done an excellent job training them. He sat down in his chair and Clarence walked up to his side.

His confidence faltered ever so slightly. He was used to Scorpius angry or determined or a million other emotions but not so defeated. Never defeated. Scorpius closed his eyes. "Fine, they can stay. But you make it obvious to everyone here. No one is to bring in anyone else without my express permission. That includes you, Clarence. Especially you."

Clarence just nodded. He tried to look grateful, but he couldn't help his grin as it spread from ear to ear. Scorpius, on the other hand, couldn't help but feel like he had just made a terrible, terrible mistake.

* * *

><p><strong>January 29, 2032<strong>

Maddison liked to think that she was a very clever girl. After all, she had to be to keep her rowdy Quidditch players in line. That was why she was shocked to have no explanation as to why Logan had been avoiding her for Matthew. The two boys were seated together all day, anywhere they went, speaking only to each other in hushed whispers.

A part of Maddison would have thought she was being cheated on except… well it was Matthew. She knew the rumors about Matthew and Lucas well enough to know that the two of them were pretty into each other. She also knew them personally enough to know that the rumors were completely true. For that reason, she felt worse for Lucas than she did for herself. She was older than he was and used to the romance game. She doubted he had ever liked anyone before Matthew, so being suddenly avoided must have not been something he was expecting. Though, to be fair, it wasn't something any expected.

"They're being weird, right?" she asked as she sat down at the lunch table beside Lucas. He was roughing up his mashed potatoes like it owed him money as he watched Matthew and Logan rush out of the cafeteria together, heading towards the library. "It's not just me?"

"I don't get it," Lucas spat out as he tossed his fork into his plate, shoving it away. "They've been weird since yesterday."

"Have they really not told you anything?" she asked, plying the issue. "Not even Matt?"

Lucas visibly flinched at the subtle accusation and Maddison felt terrible for even bringing it up. "Has _Logan_ told _you_ anything?"

It was Maddison's turn to look thoroughly embarrassed. That lasted for all of five seconds. She would not allow someone like Lucas to see her out of sorts. "So… he told you?"

Lucas shrugged, eager to change the topic. "You made him do double laps every day for the past two weeks."

"Yeah?"

"That's trying too hard to hide that you like him."

Maddison and Lucas looked at each other before they both smirked. "You little shit," she said, reaching out to muss his white blond hair. "But seriously… what are we going to do about them?"

Lucas shook his head as he tossed back the rest of his juice. "I don't know what the fuck they're up to, but I am going to find out." One way or another, he added to himself.

* * *

><p><strong>January 30, 2032<strong>

Albus was dreaming of Hogwarts, as he usually did when he was feeling stressed. On that particular night, he was twelve years old again and in the Shrieking Shack with the ghost of Severus Snape.

He had seen so many images of the man growing up, but none of the portraits seemed to look like the young boy that was leaning over him, looking over his potions work, correcting his every mistake. All of those portraits had been of a frighteningly intimidating man with cold eyes, but the Severus Snape that Albus knew always had a gentle sadness about him. It made Albus's heart fill with pity whenever he had to leave him.

Severus had just finished explaining to him why silver stirring rods should never be used when dealing with frog livers when a knock at his door awoke him from his relatively pleasant dream.

Yawning, Albus slowly got to his feet. He slipped on his robe and staggered to the door. "Just one moment," he said as he took his wand and illuminated the tip. When he considered the time, Albus figured it was probably just a lost first year. He was sure any other professor would have angrily sent the student on his or her way, but Albus had a soft spot for his students, especially the skittish first years.

Albus had a soft spot for his students… and a certain Potions teacher who was at that very moment standing at his doorway with a lost look on his face. He looked Scorpius up and down. He was drenched in rain. Horror filled his eyes when he realized that he had some scratches on his hands and face, with more certainly hidden by his drenched clothes. His eyes darted up to meet Scorpius's. He had been hurt. "Scorpius, wh-" he started to speak, but he was cut off when Scorpius took a step into the room and crushed their lips together.

The two moved together backwards towards the bed. Albus pushed the door closed just as Scorpius stepped through the threshold. Albus's wand clattered to the floor, the light completely extinguished. Scorpius's mind was trapped in his singular task, but Albus's mind was racing.

Where had Scorpius gone? Had someone tried to kill him? What exactly had happened? How close had he unwittingly come to losing Scorpius that night while he slept soundly in his bed? He slipped his arms around Scorpius's neck as he fell back against the bed, pulling Scorpius down with him. When Scorpius removed his lips from Albus's it was only to press them against the brunet's exposed neck.

The soft sound of moans and shifting clothes filled the starlight drenched room. The movements were calculated yet desperate, instinctive. Albus's back arched. Scorpius's finger tips drug into Albus, keeping him close.

And almost as soon as it had started, Scorpius stopped, collapsing over Albus, a tired, panting mess.

Albus kept his eyes closed. He was thankful that there was relative darkness in the room. He would have died from embarrassment if Scorpius could see how red his face had gotten just from the heavy petting.

Scorpius had done this a few nights in a row now. He would show up in the middle of night, usually after a mission and would stay with Albus until the early hours of morning when he would sneak back to his own room down the hall. Sometimes Scorpius would kiss him, but most of the time they would just sleep snuggled together. Tonight was the first time Scorpius' kisses had almost led to… something else.

"I'm so sorry," Scorpius murmured, face buried against Albus' neck.

"For what?" Albus asked, his voice a whisper as his fingers found their way to Scorpius' hair, stroking the white blond wisps. He curled a lock around his forefinger. His hair was still wet from rain. "For kissing me?"

"For waking you up," he answered sleepily, pulling Albus closer. "Kissing you could have waited until the morning…"

Albus couldn't help but smile. He hugged Scorpius in return, his eyes slipping shut. He wasn't sure what sort of relationship it was the two of them had, but he was thankful that Scorpius didn't seem to regret whatever it was.

* * *

><p>When Albus came to, he was surprised to see both the sun out and Scorpius still in his bed. At some point in the night, Scorpius must have gotten cold and pulled the blanket over both of them. Albus didn't quite want to wake up so he moved closer and rested his cheek against Scorpius's chest. The soft beating of his heart relaxed Albus.<p>

No matter how hurt Scorpius might have been, he was still alive. Some nights Scorpius would return to him so bloodied and bruised, Albus would stay up for hours just listening to that gentle, stubborn heart beat just to reassure him that Scorpius had returned to him alive.

Leaning his head up, shy but determined, he pressed his lips against the edge of Scorpius's.

The blond's eyes remained closed, but he smiled a bit. "Good morning to you, too," he muttered softly, pulling Albus closer to kiss him again. "What time is it?"

"Almost time for breakfast, I suspect," Albus muttered as he rested his head back against Scorpius' chest. "Are you alright? You looked hurt when you came in."

"Just a scratch. Maybe a few."

"Where did you go, Scorpius?" Albus asked worriedly. "You didn't say that you were going on a mission last night."

"You would have worried if I had."

"Don't you dare," he said angrily, sitting up. "Don't you dare use that as an excuse to ever leave me in the dark, understood? I doubt your dangerous missions will offend my delicate sensibilities," he muttered, obviously annoyed.

"I'm sorry."

Albus looked a little surprised. It wasn't like Scorpius to willingly apologize for anything when he wasn't in a state of senselessness. "For… not telling me the truth?"

"For leaving a bruise on your neck," he said with an impish grin as he reached up and pressed his palm against Albus' neck. His thumb swiped against a sensitive spot. "I'm sure you will be able to cover it up without a problem, but I'm still sorry."

Albus's eyes widened as he hopped out of bed suddenly and rushed to the mirror. "Oh, for goodness sake...! What are you, a child? Who does things like this anymore?!"

Scorpius stretched out on the bed comfortably. "Maybe I'm just making up for lost time? I didn't have the sense to do this when we were back in school, you know."

"Or maybe you just had too much sense?" Albus suggested as he picked up his wand from the floor.

"Hmm," Scorpius hummed as he made a show of genuinely thinking on the matter. It was just a show. "No, no. I definitely didn't have much sense as a student. Do you know how many opportunities you had given me to explore how I felt? Numerous. We were in the same dormitory. I could have just made my way into your bed."

"Scorpius!"Albus cried out in embarrassment, "Stop, would you?"

"Oh, but it's true, my sweet Albus. How many times did you throw those sultry glances my way?" Scorpius teased.

At that, Albus snorted. "I was such an… awkward child. I doubt anything I could have ever done back then would ever be branded as sultry. You on the other hand... I heard many a rumor about you."

Scorpius smiled as he propped himself up on his elbows, watching Albus put a charm on the bruises, hiding them. "Is that so?"

"Oh, yes. You and Claire Thompson. You and Jessica McDougal. I ever heard one about you and my brother."

He just shrugged. "Thompson was a troll and McDougal smelled like she only ever ate onions and brie. I would have thought you knew my standards were a bit higher than that."

"And my brother?"

"What about him?"

Albus turned to look at him. "Aren't you going to insult him, too?"

"Oh. Well, that particular rumor was at least partially true."

Albus' eyes widened for a moment before he quickly tried to recover. It was too late. Scorpius had seen that twinge of jealousy. "I-is that so?" Albus's voice was unusually high

"Yes."

"Did you like him? Do you… like him?"

Scorpius slipped out of bed as he walked over to Albus. He smiled at him. "Only as much as I need to for your sake. He was never the sort I had my eye on. I was much more interested in the awkward younger brother."

Albus looked down at his feet. "But you and James…" That was a story he was familiar with. Why would ever want Albus after they had had James? James Potter was so outgoing, so charismatic. Albus was practically little more than his odd little shadow in most people's eyes.

"It was a single kiss after our last Quidditch game. The kiss took me by surprise. I wasn't expecting it… and I didn't expect it to be so terrible."

Slowly, Albus chuckled as he looked up at Scorpius incredulously. He would have to start believing that Scorpius truly was not like most people. "Terrible? How so?"

"Oh, it was awful. All teeth. All tongue. All saliva. Could you imagine my disappointment? My first kiss with a Gryffindor and it was a right mess. There I was thinking they had the common sense to practice before performing in public."

At that, Albus snorted. "I bet he tried to bite your tongue. He kept telling me how he read that girls love it when you bite their tongues."

"Is _that_ what that was? Here I was thinking he was trying to pick a fight," Scorpius joked. He was happy that Albus seemed to be taking the news so well. "So you aren't upset?"

Albus quirked a brow. "I think you mean to ask if I'm jealous. I like to think that level of teenage angst is rather behind me, Scorpius. Besides, unlike you, I had the benefit of growing up with James so I know for a fact that you and he would not for a very compatible relationship make," he explained, pushing Scorpius away slightly so he could walk over to his wardrobe to pick out his outfit for the day. "Now, if you wanted to attempt it, I wouldn't stand in your way. In fact, I'd give you my blessing, though I doubt his technique has improved little."

Scorpius walked up to Albus and slipped his arms around his waist, resting his chin against his shoulder. "And why would I go and do something like that? Who would be daft enough to pine after James when they could have you?"

It was now Albus's turn to smile coyly. "Oh, that's interesting. I don't recall every saying you had me, Mr. Scorpius Malfoy and honestly, I'm insulted by your insinuation."

Scorpius looked a little surprised before he chuckled. "Well, excuse my rudeness. I had assumed I had you around the time you were gasping my name last night."

Albus's cheeks went bright red as he reached up and flicked Scorpius' on the forehead. "You bastard." Scorpius just laughed in response. Albus sighed and relaxed into the embrace. It was a nice way to start the morning, he had to admit.

"Oh, before I forget," Scorpius muttered, "I received word from Seamus that he will be able to make the delivery two weeks from now."

Albus hung his head. If anything could ruin his otherwise good mood, it would be that. "I hope we don't have to use them."

Scorpius nodded his head in agreement as he pressed a kiss against Albus's neck. He hoped they wouldn't be necessary, but in times of war, sometimes atrocities could not be avoided for the sake of the greater good.

* * *

><p><span><strong>TBC<strong>


	15. Their Own Foolishness

**Author's Note: **Wow, another update in the SAME year? I know, I know. Thank you to all of you for taking the time to reading and thank you to my beta for making sure I get this done!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15<strong>

**"****Their Own Foolishness****"**

* * *

><p><strong>January 31, 2032<strong>

Matthew sat at his table, lightly tapping his pen against the surface. Just how long had he been staring at the same passage, willing it to make some sense? Too long. He grabbed his wand and flipped through the pages. Maybe some practical exercises would help clear the fog in his mind.

Left swipe, upward stroke, incantation, downward stroke followed immediately by an upward flick to the left. The block of cedar in front of him twitched a little bit. It didn't look anything like the canary that was pictured in his Transfiguration text.

Setting the wand down, he rested his head back, closing his eyes.

It was impossible for him to concentrate on homework when his mind was filled to the brim with other concerns. When compared to the war he now found himself fighting, school work seemed so unbelievably unimportant.

Everything seemed unimportant. Things that once held his interest and curiosity now felt childish and transitory. What would it matter if he could make bottled rain storms or chairs that would dissolve into custard as soon as someone tried to sit in them if in the background, Belrose and her people were enslaving the planet?

A part of him regretted joining "the cause", as Clarence put it.

He had only been a part of the mission a few days, and already he was feeling spread thin. Every night, he and Logan would go to the training fields for hours. He was initially shocked to see familiar faces in the group, some students from Kingston, Zenbazi and even some shopkeepers from Dragons Camp. That shock had completely disappeared when training began. People who were usually sweet and kind showed Matthew no mercy when training. He would return to the dorm rooms exhausted and in pain every night.

He had no idea why Logan loved it so much. Logan had taken to the training much better than he had. He had improved by leaps and bounds, always insisting on fighting against the strongest members, even if it meant near instant defeat. By comparison, Matthew was only participating half-heartedly.

Now, he was wondering if it was too late for him to withdraw. It was much better before he had learned the truth. Even if it meant being Obliviated, he was seriously considering just going back to how it once was.

Just a week ago, his life had been so simple. He would go to classes. He would spend hours with Lucas and Logan reading up on the latest advances in potions or transfigurations or charms. And then, after hours, he and Lucas would spend time alone.

Lucas…

The thought of his boyfriend made Matthew open his eyes and stare up at the ceiling. There had been times when he thought that Lucas was only dating him as a game. There had been times when he wouldn't have minded.

Matthew had wanted to be with Lucas so badly, wanted his feelings to be returned so desperately, that he would have happily accepted a disingenuous relationship. But then, at some point, the farce had become truth. Lucas had always been nice to him, but nice in the way a friend would have been. They always had a back and forth, but when Matthew was not paying attention, the friendly rapport softened into something else. There were times when Lucas would just reach out and put a hand on Matthew's or lean against him. It wasn't flirtatious, it wasn't exaggerated. It was just nice.

And now, Matthew found himself fighting a war against Lucas' once-mother figure. Matthew wished he had more normal teenage angst some days.

He stood up and walked over to his bed, flopping down into it. He didn't dare to slip under the covers for fear of drifting off to sleep before his homework was finished.

Knock knock. He glanced at the door when he heard the knocking. Who could it be? It wasn't time for him to head down to training, so he doubted it was Logan. The door creaked open and Lucas poked his head into the room. "Hey."

Matthew smiled as he propped himself up on his elbows. "Hey," he said in return. That was all Lucas needed as an invitation.

Lucas climbed into the bed and rested his head against Matthew's arm. He smiled as he felt Matthew's warm hand rub his arm. His own skin was naturally cool and the warmth was pleasant, though he would never admit it out loud. Besides, Matthew already knew, so there was little point in overstating the obvious. Besides, he was a man on a mission. "Is something bugging you?"

Matthew glanced away. "No. Everything is fine."

"Liar."

Silence. Lucas moved closer to him until his cheek was pressed against Matthew's chest. Matthew smelled of sage and a hint of cedar. He must have been working on homework. His heart was beating faster than it usually did. Lucas sat up.

"We need to talk."

Matthew sat up as well. "What is it?" he asked as he ran his hand along his arm. Lucas glanced down, thoughts spinning behind his grey eyes. Calculating. Weighing options. Taking risks.

"I'm not stupid you know. I know that you and Logan are up to something."

Matthew's eyes widened and he looked flustered. He couldn't even make eye contact with Lucas as he glanced away. "That's not-"

"But the part that pisses me off the most is that you would rather lie to my face about there even being a problem," Lucas explained as he got off of the bed. "I'm not a clingy boyfriend, you know. If you don't want to explain something to me, ok, cool, I get it. Just say that, though. Just say, 'sorry, Luke, I've got some shit going on now.' I know you enough to know you can handle anything and, if you can't, you're smart enough to get help. I just don't appreciate you underestimating me like this. I'm not some delicate princess, you ass."

Matthew looked at Lucas sadly. "I didn't mean for it to seem like I was purposefully keeping you in the dark. I just didn't want you to get hurt…"

Lucas rubbed at his temples. "God dammit. Your chivalry is starting to really get on my nerves. I'm not dating you because I need someone to protect me," he explained as he walked to stand right next to Matthew. "I'm with you because I acknowledge you as my equal and, well, I thought you saw me that way, too."

Matthew was stunned. It took him a few moments to realize the meaning of what Lucas was saying. He pulled Lucas close. "I do. I really do."

Lucas seemed pleased. He knelt on the bed as slipped his arms around Matthew's shoulders. "We're partners. Just because we also do romantic shit doesn't mean that's changed. Right?"

Matthew nodded, kissing Lucas's cheek before resting his forehead against his boyfriend's chest. "Right. I'm sorry, Lucas. This isn't something I should have kept from you."

"You're right. It isn't. But what I said before, I meant it. You don't have to tell me any specifics, but I'm here if you want to."

Matthew remained with his forehead pressed against Lucas' chest. He could feel Lucas play with his locks of brown hair, twirling them around his slender fingers. That was when he made up his mind. "I want you to come with me," he suddenly blurted out, looking up at Lucas.

"What? Where are we going?" he asked as Matthew suddenly got up, rushing over to the table. He frantically gathered up numerous papers and books and vials and threw them all into his messenger bag. Without another word, Matthew grabbed Lucas' hand. Before Lucas could say another word, the world around him swirled and was pulled downward.

When the world in his vision decided to play nice and stand still, Lucas looked around curiously. He was confused. He looked at Matthew for some kind of explanation.

"This is where Logan and I have been."

"And where is this?"

Matthew walked over to one of the spare table tops in the white lab and set down his bag, emptying out the books and papers. "It's one of Huerta's labs."

Huerta. Lucas furrowed his brow. "Huerta? The school nurse, Huerta?"

Mathew chuckled. "Yeah. I thought it was weird, too. But apparently he's into this kind of stuff."

"And what is this kind of stuff, exactly?" Matthew turned around and looked like he was about to speak but Lucas held up a hand. "Actually, on second thought, I don't really want to know what kind of weird ass shit he's probably into. But just tell me, what exactly is it that you and Logan have been doing here?"

"Fighting a war."

Matthew expected Lucas to doubt him, to mock him, but instead, Lucas looked impressed. "Wow. A war, huh? Against who?"

The older boy wavered. He was doing whatever he could to stop Belrose, the same woman who, until recently, Lucas had adored like a mother. Even though Lucas had refused to talk about her since winter break, he was not sure if he disliked her enough to be too enthusiastic about his boyfriend fighting against her. For a brief moment, he considered lying to Lucas, but then immediately decided against it. The whole reason he brought Lucas down there was so he could stop the lies before they got any bigger. It wouldn't make sense to keep lying, and if Matthew was anything, he was sensible.

He hung his head. Taking the high road was not always the easiest option, he was beginning to realize. "Cassandra Belrose."

Lucas stepped away from Matthew. The normally mischievous grin he had on his face was temporarily replaced with a flurry of conflicting emotions. Anger. Sadness. Excitement. And then, he looked back at Matthew, steadfast. "I want in."

Matthew balked. "You don't even know why."

"I don't need to know why. If you're fighting against her, then I want in."

"I thought she was like a mom to you, Lucas." Matthew flinched as soon as he said it, but Lucas was still, a wintry expression upon his face.

"If you're against her, then that means she deserves it. I don't need any reason other than that." And with that, the decision was made.

Matthew just wasn't sure if Scorpius Malfoy was going to like it very much.

"Mr. Potter, wait," Clarence said as he stood between Albus and the entrance to the training field.

Albus walked up to him, carrying a box of targets for that night's training, tilting his head curiously. Clarence looked worried. That was rare for the young, at least around Albus. He tried to give him a smile. It seemed to help as Clarence found himself smiling in return despite himself. "Yes, Clarence? Is something the matter?"

"Something like that. We have had a number of new recruits since you were able to come here last." Clarence could feel his chest tighten as he saw the sorrow grow on Albus' face. How he hated that.

"I suppose that cannot be helped. Who are the new recruits?"

"Logan, Matthew, and Lucas. They aren't under Belrose's influence or anything, but they want to help anyway."

Albus looked down. It would be a lie to say Albus was ignorant of the fact that there were children in his little army. Desperate times warranted desperate measures, but no amount of rationalization made the decisions any easier. "I'll tell Scorpius, then."

Clarence watched Albus staring intently at the box in his hand. Something within his heart swelled and for the briefest of moments he considered reaching out and putting a hand on Albus's shoulder, an innocent touch to let him know that he was there for him.

The feeling lasted only a moment. Despite his desires, Clarence just stood still as Albus walked past him. His shoulders slumped. He wanted to be kind, but such weaknesses had little purpose when one's intention was to wage a war.

Besides, what use did Mr. Potter have for him when he already had someone like Scorpius Malfoy?

* * *

><p><strong>February 1, 2032<strong>

Albus woke up with a start. His heart was pounding in his chest. He looked around but his eyes were blind in his dark room. He reached for his wand but stopped when he felt arms slip around his waist, pulling him close to a warm, familiar body.

"Mhm?" Scorpius grumbled against Albus' neck, not bothering to wake up any more than absolutely necessary.

Screaming. Blood. Lifeless silver grey eyes staring at him... memories of his nightmare disappeared into the darkness of the void as he lay beside Scorpius.

He was safe. There was nothing to worry about at the moment. There would be plenty of time to worry later.

For the time being, Albus allowed himself to melt back against the body pressed against his back. He could feel Scorpius' finger tips rub against the skin of his stomach ever so slightly, under his shirt, as he breathed. His breath warmed the back of Albus' neck before quickly cooling it upon inhalation.

Scorpius had become a seemingly permanent fixture in Albus's quarters. Albus rolled over onto his other side so that he could face Scorpius as he slept. He expected to see Scorpius' face relaxed from sleep, but that was rarely the case. Scorpius looked as worried asleep as he did awake.

Albus tried to be brave, but he was scared. Every day, news of Belrose's power grew more bleak. More people joined her. She nurtured better connections. She was swaying the world in her favor, one promise of immortality at a time. Albus sometimes doubted what he was doing, but he reminded himself that he knew that her promises could never be properly fulfilled. He owed it to the people of the world to save them, even if it was from their own foolishness.

Just because Albus knew he was in the right didn't make his battle any easier. There was a very real possibility that they could even die. He didn't want to die. Not now. He knew that the moments of peace would be fleeting and in a month's time would seem a memory of a far off time.

Albus pressed a kiss to his forehead and, the briefest of moments, Scorpius felt no fear.

* * *

><p><strong>February 3, 2032<strong>

Albus walked through the rows of bookshelves. The bookstore was quiet, but that was only to be expected. Class had gotten out early and as he didn't have a class until the afternoon, he decided to stop by Barrow's, yearning for a new book. He just wanted some kind of distraction and it seemed that being among the old texts was the only place he felt at home lately.  
>His excursion started with a tome on the history of protection charms and ended with Albus carrying a stack of nearly twenty books up to his favorite spot on the second floor to read through them over a cup of tea to decide which ones he wished to purchase. He had gotten about halfway up the narrow stairway up to the second story when he lost his footing.<br>The next few seconds felt like they lasted an eternity. With his hands full, Albus couldn't reach for his wand. He was falling backwards and there was nothing he could do. He knew it was going to hurt, so he tried to brace himself.

Except, the fall never came.

Instead, he felt arms wrap around him easily catching him just before the back of his head could make unfriendly contact with the floor.

"Well, this is one way to meet you, Mr. Potter."  
>Albus was in a state of shock so it took him a moment to realize what was happening. A strange man was holding him. He looked up. His books were being suspended above his head, still in a state of half-falling, albeit now incredibly slowly. He got to his feet, dusting himself off. "Thank you for your help, but it seems that you have me at a bit of a disadvantage. You seem to know my name, but I don't know yours."<p>

"Gabriel," the man said as he gave Albus a sweet, pleasant smile. "Gabriel Belrose. Mind if we go somewhere to talk?"

It was around the time Gabriel poured some milk into his coffee that Albus was wondering how he found himself in such a familiar situation. He stared at his tea. He was not feeling very well. It felt like there was a wand pressed up against his neck, threatening to kill him. He could feel tears prickling the corner of his eyes, angry at himself for having gotten himself into such a mess. He had no idea that Belrose was married. He had no doubt he was about to die. Why else would this Gabriel want to speak with Albus?

"You don't have to look so scared," Gabriel finally said, after having let Albus suffer long enough. "I'm not here to kill you."

"What are you here for, then?" Albus snapped out, sounding braver than he felt.

"I am here to offer your group my services. I have been doing my homework and I have decided that I would very much like to help you."

Albus didn't understand. He was so confused he didn't even bother to hide the look from his face. "Help us? What do you think we need help with, exactly?"

"You're planning on fighting my wife, right?" Albus looked down. "Hey, don't worry. Personally, I find it pretty noble. We might be married, but it was more of a business arrangement for the both of us. I don't know if you've noticed this, but she is sort of completely crazy. I know. I used to live with her. If she pulls this stunt of hers, she'll make my job difficult."

"Your job?"

Gabriel just chuckled. He didn't realize Albus really didn't know who he was. He supposed it was understandable. Albus hadn't been in the country long, after all. "You really don't know me, huh? Can't say I'm not at least a little embarrassed. Wizarding Times ran a pretty flattering article about me not too long ago. I looked pretty good on the cover. But, I guess they felt obligated. I'm in charge of domestic security for this whole country, after all." Albus could practically feel his jaw falling down to the floor. Gabriel just smiled. "As I am sure you can understand, it would really be in my best interest if her little plan were to fail massively. For that reason, I wish to join the good fight. I will, of course, be bringing with me all of the resources currently at my disposal."

Albus had to be dreaming. This couldn't possibly be reality. In a single sweep, this man had just volunteered to even the playing field between the sides. If only Scorpius was here! He'd know what to say. Albus opened his mouth to speak, but the man was faster. "And don't worry. If your organization is run like any other I am aware of, I assume there is something like a chain of command. From what I gather, it is someone you know. All I ask is that you forward my information to this person. Whether or not anything becomes of it, it will be his decision to make," he explained as he reached out to hand Albus an actual business card.

"Now," he added, standing up. "I think I have bothered you enough for one day with my horrible intrusion. Have a good day, Mr. Potter." And with that, Albus was alone once more, just starting down at the business card. For the first time in weeks, Albus was giddy. He hadn't felt such radiating hope in weeks. He couldn't wait to tell Scorpius.

* * *

><p><strong>TBC<strong>


End file.
